


Pull in the magic

by graveltotempo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Anchor, Derek is a Good Alpha, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Theo, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Other Pack(s), Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:59:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveltotempo/pseuds/graveltotempo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles Stilinski came back to Beacon Hills, he only wanted to avenge his mother.<br/>He wasn't looking for a Pack.<br/>He wasn't looking for Derek Hale.</p><p>When Derek Hale found the mate mark on his body, he had every intention of ignoring it.<br/>He didn't need someone to love.<br/>He had his pack and that was all he needed.</p><p>Or Stiles Stilinski and Theo Raeken arrive to Beacon Hills to save the day, and Stiles and Derek find that they had been missing out a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull in the magic

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the fic! I put a lot of effort in it, so...  
> Anywho, Theo is a bit OC and so is Parrish, but you know... We have actually never seen them on a normal day so, y'know!  
> Not going to keep you any longer, enjoy!

** WEREWOLF: What is this between you and I? What is it I’m feeling? Is it a wolf’s lust? Is it a human’s passion? **

** SPARK: Look for the answer. **

 

 

When the door of the sheriff’s office burst open, John Stilinski wasn’t even surprised. He had been kind of expecting it, if he was honest with himself.

He stared at the two teenagers at the door, slightly amused and slightly disgruntled. They had been in Beacon Hills for less than a day, and here they were, already blasting door opens.

“Saying that I was expecting a warmer welcome it’s an understatement.” Said the taller of the two boys. He was staring at the sheriff with a huge grin plastered on his face as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, shifting his weight from foot to foot in that annoying way of his. His amber eyes were looking at him with amusement tinted with mischief. The boy next to him was leaning over the doorway in an ‘ _I’m an asshole and I’m trying to intimidate you’_ kinda way as he chewed his gum, a smirk on his face.

The Sheriff sighed. “Hi, Stiles.” He nodded in the direction of the other teen. “Theo.” 

He directed his attention back on his files hoping they would go away. No such luck.

The amber eyed boy rolled his eyes as he walked in towards the sheriff. “Dad, you are no fun! Where is the joy and happiness about your son being finally back in Beacon Hills after all these years?”

His father rubbed his temples tiredly as he looked up at his son. Stiles looked the same way as he’s always been, maybe a little more jittery than he had been the last time he had seen him. His attention was for once on the sheriff only. “I saw you last week.” Reminded him the sheriff. His eyes narrowed. “Which brings the question. What are you doing here? You’ve always hated Beacon Hills.” 

Stiles shrugged. “Not always, that’s a big fat lie. What are you doing?” he wondered as he flipped through the pages of his work. The sheriff slapped his hand away, picking up his work. “This is classified information, kiddo.”

Theo, who hadn’t moved at all, tilted his head to the side. “Murder?” he asked, sounding interested. _What was up with these two kids and their macabre interest in murders_? Couldn’t they pick art for a hobby painting or chasing after butterflies?

“Erica Reyes, last seen Tuesday 30th April.” He looked up at his dad. “That’s like two weeks ago?” he asked.

The sheriff nodded. “16 days to be precise.” There was never a chance of him keeping secrets around Stiles so why bother? “She’s the third disappearance in less than a month.” He explained, taking another piece of paper. 

Stiles squinted his eyes at the piece of paper. “Uhm. Aiden and Ethan Carver. Last seen Saturday 27th April. Well, isn’t it peculiar. And how are the researches going?” he asked.

The sheriff shook his head. “A dead end. The twins didn’t have any sort of family here, Ethan had a boyfriend, but that’s about it. Erica, she also had a boyfriend, but he hadn’t been of any help at all. It’s a dead end.”

Theo smiled kindly at the sheriff. “I bet if you can solve anything you want Sheriff. You are a pro.”

The Sheriff bit his lip. “And we still have to get that woman who killed her husband about a few months ago. And the one who evaded prison last month. So many things to do and so little time or notice. This is so frustrating.” He shook his head again and Stiles put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. Take it easy, daddy-o. Don’t worry, now that Stiles is back in town, he’ll look after you!” he promised with a grin. 

The Sheriff shuddered. Then his gaze flickered back on his son and Theo. “What are you looking for now, though? You could have waited for me at home.”

Stiles smiled and shrugged, his mind elsewhere probably. Theo answered for him. “We were looking for Deputy Parrish.” He answered. Then he frowned slightly. “Well, Stiles was. But I’m with him.”

The Sheriff nodded, as he watched Stiles who was contemplating a picture on the Sheriff’s drawer. “Is that the woman you going to marry? Melissa McCall?” he asked, staring at the picture.

Stiles had been living with his grandparents from his mom’s side since he was 10, and then on his own since he was 16. Obviously he had spent plenty of summers in Beacon Hills as well, but he had never met the woman that his father was going to marry. Or her son.

Well he had kinda met her whenever his father brought her along to New York, but the boy had carefully avoided her. Not because he didn’t really want his father to get married... but because he didn’t really want his father to get married again. Sue him for being selfish.

Apparently her son and Stiles had been close before- best friends or something like that- but that was what? 11 years ago? Stiles didn’t even know what the dude looked like. He turned to his father with a smile on his face. “You can invite her over to dinner. Her and her son.” He commented, as he walked towards the door again.

“Stiles.” Called his father before the two boys left the room. His son looked back at him, holding the door with a hand, ready to close it behind him. The Sheriff smiled at him softly. “Welcome back.”

Stiles grinned back at him, before leaving the room.

Theo was already outside, walking towards the woods and not even bothering to wait for Stiles to catch up with him. Which was quite rude, in Stiles’ opinion. Well, not that Stiles wasn’t able to catch up with him, obviously.

“Beacon Hills is kinda cute.” Murmured Theo as he and Stiles walked through the thick woods of the small town. It wasn’t really challenging for neither of them, but they had all their senses alerted. They were looking for Parrish, and at the same time they were trying not to be spotted by anyone else.

Stiles grimaced at him. “You pronounced _dead_ wrong.” He answered moving a branch away from his face. He frowned at Theo. “When was the last time you were here?” he asked, keeping a branch out of his face.

Theo thought about it for a few moments. “Around the time you left, I think. Fourth grade?” he answered after a few seconds. “This way.” He said suddenly, pulling Stiles, but the boy was already one step ahead of him.

“Are you catching any scent, Fido?” he asked him, as the werewolf crouched down, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

Theo chose to ignore Stiles’ mocking as he looked up at the boy with confusion. “There is something fucking weird about this.” He murmured. 

He stood up suddenly looking around him. Stiles just stared at him perplexed. “Dude, you okay? Ugh, flies! Aren’t they supposed to be still dead?” he grumbled, slapping his own neck. His fingers wrapped around something on his neck. He looked at the small dart in his hand, and he couldn’t help but laugh as he saw Theo dropping in front of him. “That was really smart.” He commented. Then he blacked out.

* * *

There was a face really close to Stiles. Like very close. Stiles could feel the person’s breath on his face, which, _gross._ His eyes flew open and he found himself staring into a pair of unfamiliar green eyes.

“Uhm.” Said Stiles, staring at the green eyed person in front of him. He made to move a little further away from him but, _surprise_ , his hands were handcuffed! Not that it was that much of an obstacle, more like a nuisance.

The man that had been standing in front of him finally made a few steps back, and Stiles could finally have a clear view of where he was. He was in a... room. An overcrowded room.

He could see Theo, tied up with wolfs bane chains still out cold a few feet away from him. He didn’t seem other ways harmed.

They were both sitting on the floor of a living room, and there were people watching them. Some of the faces were a bit familiar, but Stiles could have never been able to associate names with the faces.

“Who are you?” spoke a voice. It was the man that had been staring into Stiles’ soul and breathing on his face a few minutes ago. He was tall, with short dark hair, and he was... fit. Like those muscles were massive. He was wearing only a singlet and a pair of dark jeans. He had a scruff and he looked in equal parts incredibly pissed, slightly terrified and clearly annoyed. Also...

“You are a werewolf.” He said, without breaking eye contact. The man and the people in the room startled at his voice, but Stiles didn’t really care.

There were about other six people in the room. Two females and four males. He smiled at the girls. “You are human. A heavily armed human. Your darts are great.” He said to a tall girl with dark hair, standing not too far from the first werewolf, with a bow in her hands. She just stared at him, although her lips quirked.

“And you...” he squinted his eyes at the girl standing next to her. She had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, and she was looking at him with a thoughtful expression, as if trying to place him. He ignored her expression. “You are human, but not really.” He pondered for a few seconds. “Banshee? Perhaps.”

He turned to the man standing next to her but he didn’t miss her nodding. “And a bunch of werewolves.” He sighed looking at the group of boys. One of them was a tall boy with brown hair and startling blue eyes. From his stance next to the blonde girl he could easily assume he was her boyfriend or something like that.

Next to him was a slightly taller boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. The man was wearing a _scarf_. Stiles grimaced, looking away from him.

The guy sitting in front of scarf boy was a black man with an angry expression on his face. Not directed to Stiles, but still... Stiles wasn’t comfortable around angry werewolves. They tended to cause a lot of trouble and problems.

Next to angry dude was another guy. He had dark hair and forever puppy brown eyes, and jaws that didn’t even make sense. He was looking at Stiles with a sort of curios stare, as if he knew who he was and was waiting for Stiles to recognize him.

“And who are you?” asked the girl with dark hair, staring at Stiles intently.

Stiles smiled brightly at her. “Where are my manners! Hello, I’m Stiles. Nice to meet you guys.” He pointed at Theo with his left hand. “And he’s Theo. Ohi, Theo!” he said, louder for the boy to hear.

He didn’t realize the werewolves weren’t even paying attention to Theo and were staring at him in confusion. Stiles looked at them and then at his hands and remembered. “Oh yeah. I forgot I wasn’t meant to be free yet. Sorry, next time I will pretend that those lame handcuffs had any chance at keeping me locked.”

“Show off.” Mumbled Theo, from where he was sitting. He had finally woke up. 

Stiles stuck his tongue out at him, before looking at the creepy dude. “Mind if I free my friend?”

“Go on.” Answered the girl with the bow, exactly as the creepy guy growled at him. 

Stiles scowled. “Dude, that’s rude.” He told him as he moved to help Theo out of the wolfs bane chains. 

“Your name is Stiles?” asked the guy with the uneven jaws. Stiles didn’t answer him just looked over at him curiously as Theo rubbed his wrists. The boy looked adorably excited. “As in _Stiles Stilinski_? The Sheriff’s son?” he asked again.

Something tugged at the edge of Stiles’ memory. He remembered standing in a room with his mother and two other people. One of them was Melissa McCall. The other was a teenage boy with an adorable puppy face who was sitting next to Stiles and talking about... some weird kids stuff. “You are Melissa’s son, right? My soon to be step brother.”

The werewolf smiled at him, handing him his hand. “I’m Scott, Scott McCall. Nice to meet you... again, I guess.” Stiles stared at the hand for a beat before shaking it with a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Scotty.” He answered, turning back to help Theo to his feet.

“What were you two doing in our territory?” asked the creepy werewolf again.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “In your territory?” what where they, in medieval times again? “We were just wandering around the woods, chill out man.” He answered, walking towards one of the couch and sitting down on it.

The guy snarled at him, but Stiles didn’t look at him. He was looking at the other werewolves, curios. “Who are you guys?” he asked.

“I’m Isaac.” Said the boy with the scarf. 

Stiles looked at him up and down. “Well, Isaac... what’s up with the scarf, man? It’s an insult to my sense of style.”

“Your sense of Stiles.” Said Theo, suppressing a grin. Scott laughed at that, but Stiles just ignored him.

“You were going badass, and then bam, you pulled out the scarf.” He commented, snorting at him. Isaac stretched out his claws, looking at Stiles slightly amused. Or pissed. He couldn’t tell.

Stiles just snorted again. “I would pull those away before you end up hurting yourself.” He turned to the angry werewolf, with a smile on his face. “Hello.” 

The werewolf looked at Stiles like he wanted nothing more than being left alone, and then sighed. “Boyd.” He mumbled. 

Stiles nodded once and looked to the guy standing next to Isaac. He had a permanent sneer on his face and Stiles already disliked him. “Who are you?” he asked, displeased.

The boy sneer grew somewhat bigger. Stiles did not like this guy, like, _at all_. “Jackson Whittemore.” He said, as if his surname and name should be important enough for Stiles to know him, recognise him.

Well, they were, but Stiles was not going to give him the satisfaction. Almost everyone in Beacon Hills knew the Whittemores, but Stiles was good at pretending. “Jacob Whatever? Nice to meet you too, buddy.” He answered, moving on.

It was delightful hearing the boy’s affronted gasp as he looked at the next person. Right, the banshee. “Lydia Martin.” She said, looking at him straight in the eye. She was kinda intimidating. Also kinda hot. Her eyes were really pretty. Green eyes.

He walked up to her, took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “My queen.” He proclaimed, with a little bow. Theo snorted, and Stiles was amazed that Jackson still hadn’t jumped him. Ugh. He was kind of hoping on it. 

“Allison.” Said the girl with the bow, shaking his hand. 

Stiles smiled at her, and looked at her bow, fascinated. “You took us down with this? Impressive. I like the wood’s quality.” He said.

Allison smiled back, an eyebrow arched. “You do archery?” she asked, interested.

Stiles shook his head. “I like arcs. Not into arms, to be honest. But I recognise good stuff when I see it.” He smiled again at her before turning to the first werewolf.

“And you.” Said Stiles looking at him, curios. The man was, or at least looked, older than the rest of the people who were in the room and he was probably the Alpha or something like that. He had that kind of energy coming off him.

“Why should I tell you my name?” the man stared at Stiles, his eyes narrowed at him. 

Stiles shrugged. To be honest, he didn’t care if the man gave him his name or not. “Just polite conversation, I guess, since you and your friends abducted the sheriff’s son and his side kick.”

Theo looked at him offended. “I am _not_ your _side kick_.”

Stiles pouted. “But... But you are the Robyn to my Bat Man!” he complained.

Theo rolled his eyes. “I am not Robyn. And you are not Bat Man.” Then he tensed, as did all the rest of the werewolves in the house. Stiles looked at them worried.

He relaxed immediately as Isaac spoke. “It’s Deputy Parrish.” 

Stiles was about to make a comment about the fact that he couldn’t trust people who wore scarves with 30 degrees, but the Alpha spoke. He stared at Stiles with mistrusting eyes and said: “Now we’ll see if you are saying the truth or not.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, as Deputy came into the room, without knocking. “Hello, guys.” He said walking in. Then he froze.

The deputy was a medium sized man with short brown hair and splendid green eyes. His skin was as soft and clear as it looked, and his lips were the prettiest shade of pink. Stiles loved staring at the man’s lips.

“Stiles?” said the Deputy, his eyes dilated. 

The boy grinned cheekily at him and run a hand through his hair. “Surprise!” he said. 

The deputy moved swiftly, pushing Stiles on the couch and kissing him fiercely on the mouth. He tasted like chocolate and mint and something else, something... Parrish. Kissing Parrish was something that he never got used to. Every time their lips touched, Stiles was overwhelmed with the sensation of tasting something that is too hot and yet the right stage of hot, and he could never explain it to someone.

He wrapped his legs around Parrish’ waist and run a hand through his hair, biting in the insides of the deputy’s mouth with maybe a little too much force. They would have probably continued until they had been both completely naked and fucking on the floor, ifsomeone hadn’t interrupted them.

“I enjoy gay sex as much as the next person, but it’s really not the time right now.” Said Isaac.

Parrish pushed himself away from Stiles’ lips, and the boy disentangled his legs from his waist, not before shooting Isaac a glare. See? Guys who wear scarves in spring are _evil_.

Parrish looked at the rest of the werewolves, flustered, before looking back at Stiles and Theo, confused. “Theo, hey. Wait. What are you guys doing here?” he asked, sitting down next to Stiles, and crossing his legs.

_ Ah _ . Stiles had already seen Jordan JR saying hi, so it wasn’t really that necessary. He put a hand over his forehead, and spoke dramatically. “Me and Theo were just walking around in the woods when we were trapped and kidnapped by these people.” He glanced at Scott and smiled. Seriously, that kid was already getting into his skin. “And my stepbrother.”

“They were in our territory.” Said the Alpha stiff. Stiles suppressed the urge to eye roll. That guy was b-o-r-i-n-g. 

Parrish scratched his neck. “If I had known that Stiles and Theo were coming, I would have told you, Derek. They do tend to get involved into stuff that doesn’t even have anything to do with them.”

Stiles shot him a glare as he probed his cheek with his index finger. “That was r-u-d-e. And we were looking for you, to be honest. We went to dad first, obviously, but you weren’t there.” He tilted his head to the side. “Where were you, anyway?”

Instead of answering him, Parrish turned to Derek. “Derek, Malia and Kira are perfectly fine. They just were worried for Erica, so they chose to stay away from here for a few days.” He explained, staring earnestly in the wolf’s eyes.

Derek clenched his fist. “We have to stay all together, at least until we know what it happening here.” He started pacing around the room, frowning. “And we don’t even know if Erica is somehow connected with the twins or something.” He shook his head and then glared at Theo and Stiles. “Who’s your pack? Why are you two in Beacon Hills? You being here is suspicious. You knowing what anyone is just by looking at them, is _even more_ suspicious.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, as he stood up. He bowed down in front of Derek. “You highness Alpha Derek, I humbly ask for forgiveness for trespassing your property. I am Stiles Stilinski, a free human spark, descendent of a human and a witch. My father is John Stilinski, sheriff of Beacon Hills Police, the town in which we are living right now. My mother was Claudia Stilinski, a witch, descendent of the New York witches, and is currently buried somewhere under this very city. I was born in this very town about 19 years ago, on a rainy day...”

Derek flared his nostrils. “Shut up.” 

Stiles grinned at him. “Or what?” he taunted. Theo and Parrish were both fighting the urge of starting to laugh because they knew Stiles: he hated being patronized and loved seeing how long he could go until the person he was speaking to got angry and tried to punch him. Key word being _tried._

Derek stared at him, dead serious. “Or I am going to rip your throat out. With my teeth.” He threatened.

Stiles laughed. He threw his head back and gave a short laugh, before looking back at Derek. When his eyes fell on the werewolf, they were glowing yellow and there was no trace of humour on his face. “If you think you are scaring me, werewolf, you have a lot to learn about me. Stay out of my way and you won’t get hurt.” Stiles had a small tattoo on his wrist, something that looked like a dark symbol fire-like, and it seemed to glow darkly with the spark’s words. 

Derek wasn’t scared. No... he was _terrified_. Not by this skinny little weird spark. He was terrified by the way he felt like clawing at his own skin. His own blood was boiling in his veins, and not from anger. It was just... boiling. He wanted to turn, and yet it seemed like the worse idea he could have, he just wanted to punch something. Maybe Stiles.

The Spark gave him a weird look, before moving away from him. He looked puzzled by something, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. His exchange with Derek had taken more or less 10 seconds altogether, but it had seemed like so much longer. Theo and Parrish were already at the door, and Isaac was standing closer to Derek, as if he wanted to speak to the werewolf about something.

Stiles sent a kiss in Lydia’s direction and winked at Allison. “Ehi, Scotty, see you at dinner. Your mother will tell you!” he called, closing the door behind them.

* * *

They managed to keep themselves from touching each other until they stopped at the deputy’s house. Then Parrish had just turned to look at Stiles and smiled, and that’s all it took for Stiles to remember how fucking horny he was.

Theo looked at them once, and then bolted, muttering something about them stinking and disappearing down the road, where is grandparents lived. His loss. Gay porn was great live.

Stiles reached forward, catching Parrish’ head in his hand as he cupped his jaw, kissing him slowly on the lips. And there it was, the familiar burn of his lips on Stiles’, the touch of honey and hotness that accompanied every touch of their lips, every bite of their teeth.

Parrish groaned, shifting as he somehow managed to break free of the seat belt without breaking the kiss, his fingers digging in Stiles’ scalp. “Fuck, Stiles... why didn’t you... text me...” panted the man in his mouth, helping him out of the seatbelt.

Car sex was a bit uncomfortable, but there was no way they could have managed the short walk from the car to the bedroom in the house. Stiles made a delighted noise when Parrish shifted his body against Stiles’, fumbling with the car’s tools to pull down the seat. He succeeded, and moaned in relief as he fell on top of Stiles, their sensitive groins touching. 

Stiles didn’t answer him, too busy licking down from his lower lips, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his neck as he helped him out of his deputy uniform. Usually he would have loved nothing more than having Parrish fuck him with his uniform on, but right now he didn’t want to play games, he just wanted a good old dicking.

He had been feeling jittery since he had come in Beacon Hills and the feeling had not decreased at all. In fact it had become worse when he and Theo had woke up in the den of those werewolves. It was like a pulse underneath his own pulse, almost like the phoenix permanently inked on his back was trying to reclaim his body.

It did happen, every time he came to Beacon Hills, but it had never been that bad. Stiles suspected it had something to do with him being so close to the Nematon. Half dead Nematon, but still a Nematon.

“Get these clothes off.” Groaned Parrish, and Stiles complied immediately, sliding off his trousers with an agility that he usually lacked of. 

Car sex was very uncomfortable. Maybe it was cool when you were a 17 years old girl with your 18 years old boyfriend, and it was a limousine, but it became a bit too small when you were a 19 years old male with your 24 years old fuck buddy in a crap car. 

Somehow they managed to get rid of their clothes and find a clean condom, and finally Stiles had a dick inside of him. “Fuck.” Groaned the spark, gripping tight on Parrish’s shoulders, as the man slowly but steadily started to buck his hips, sliding his cock farther up Stiles’ butt.

“Oh, yeah, come on Jordan.” Moaned the boy, as Parrish’ thrust accelerated in speed, his hands, tracing the outline of Stiles’ tattoo at the back of him. 

The man had thrown his head back, his eyes rolled almost all the way to the back of his head, and Stiles used the moment to give Parrish a small hickey on his neck. Parrish moaned again, gasping Stiles’ name as he came right after Stiles.

“Fuck, Stiles!” shouted the man, digging his fingernails on Stiles’ waist and, yup, that was so going to bruise, since Jordan was almost fuming.

Nowadays he could mostly control burning everything when he had sex, but sometimes, in the heat of the moment- pun fucking intended- he would still fume. Which is why, although he felt not enough attraction to Stiles to date him, the spark was one of his few fuck buddies. You try and explain to a random human why are you literally on fire as you are having sex. Good luck.

“Get you fat ass off me.” Mumbled Parrish a few moments later.

Stiles smirked, as he slowly stood in the car, moving himself off him. “Jordan, you know how many people would pay to have this ass on them?” he tutted, reaching for his boxers, as Parrish took his packet of cigarettes in a hand.

“I imagine plenty of them?” he asked, offering Stiles the cigarettes. The boy shook his head, and Parrish shrugged, lighting up the cigarette with a hand.

“Show off.” Mumbled Stiles, and Parrish laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarettes. The perks of being a Hell Bound. Then he turned serious again. “There is something going on in Beacon Hills, as I’m sure you already know.” Said the deputy, looking at Stiles.

The spark wasn’t looking at him and was fumbling with his clothes.

“Disappearances. Three in less than a month. There is something fishy about them, and the authorities can’t find a link between the people who are being taken away. It’s annoying to say the least.” Continued Jordan taking another drag of smoke.

Stiles turned to look at him. “I know where you are going with this. I am not here to solve your mysteries for you. Me and Theo... we have our own mystery to take care off. Where are not here to cause you and dad problems.”

Jordan didn’t say anything as Stiles laid more comfortably on his back, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. The deputy smiled. “I’m glad you’re back, now. For good?” he asked.

Stiles grinned back. “For good.”

* * *

Stiles took another bite of the spaghetti he had just cooked, too busy eating to pay attention at the conversation that was going on right now.

Melissa McCall and her son had arrived at the Stilinski household at 19.00, right on time for dinner, and were now sitting at the small table in the kitchen with Stiles and his father, eating Stiles’ homemade spaghetti.

Melissa McCall was a young woman, with curly brown hair and soft brown eyes. She was probably the same age as his father, to be honest, but she looked younger. From the small bits of information that he had gathered from his father, he had a pretty clear view of who she was. Divorced from Scott’s father, who was an FBI agent, and doctor at Beacon Hills Hospital. She was human, and that was about all Stiles knew about her.

“So, Stiles... do you work?” asked Melissa looking at him earnestly and almost shyly. Goddamit, why was she so nice? Fuck all the stories about step mothers being evil creatures, because they had probably never met her.

He smiled at the woman. “I am a professional kick butter. Also I am working on my thesis on serial killers.” He answered, easily. It wasn’t a complete lie. He was working on his thesis. Working on starting it.

The woman appeared surprised. She smiled. “Sometimes I forget you are the same age as Scott. You look and sound so much older and mature.” Scott gave an offended ‘ _Mum_!’, as the woman continued. “He’s studying veterinary, he loves animals.”

Stiles looked up at Scott, a grin on his face. “I am sure he does, don’t you, Scotty? You did tell me about your _bestial_ love for animals. Have you always loved them or did it come out of the _moon,_ suddenly?” he asked him.

Scott’s face was on fire and he looked at his mother, who was just looking at him confused and glad that he was getting along with Stiles. He gave a short laugh. “Ah. Very funny, and no, I’ve always loved animals.” He answered, hoping that Stiles was done with the puns.

Stiles didn’t seem finished though. “What kind of animals do you work with? Doesn’t it get worrying having so many _furries_ around? Like animals are _friends_ , and they are all great and that, but sometimes they are a _hairy_ problem, isn’t it?” he asked again, wiggling his eyebrows.

Scott stared at him dead in the eyes. “I work with different kind of animals. And no, it’s not worrying. I learnt to _bear_ with it. It’s actually very _punny_.”

Stiles bursted out laughing and covered his mouth to prevent from making a disaster on the table. He looked at Melissa. “I like your son. I’m gonna keep him.” He answered, as he stood up from the table to clean the plates.

Melissa tried to go after him to help him clean, but he refused, dragging instead Scott with him. His father gave him a soft thankful smile.

“That was so uncalled for, Stiles.” Said Scott, once they were locked away from the indiscrete ears of their parents. 

Stiles grunted. “Excuse you, that was absolutely hilarious. Also, I was serious about keeping you. I like you.” He joked, punching him on the shoulder.

Scott rolled his eyes, but he seemed happy. Happier than he had been at the loft at least. “Kira will have something to say about this.” He answered him.

Stiles tilted his head to the side, reaching for the detergent with his right hand. “Who’s Kira?” he asked, curios, as he started scrubbing off a plate.

Scott lit up, reaching for his wallet in his pocket. He opened it to reveal a picture of a petite Asian girl with long dark hair. Stiles looked at him for a few seconds. “How old are you again? Not even my _dad_ , had a picture of my mum in his wallet. My granddad does, but my granddad is fucking ancient.”

Scott blushed and shrugged, as he started rinsing the soaped plates. Then he looked curios as he asked Stiles the next question. “But really... what can a spark do?” he asked. 

Stiles grinned. “Many amazing things... like this.” He put down the plate on the sink and pulled out a small stilo. It looked like a paintbrush. He thought about it for a moment and then drew a small rune on the sink. He then proceeded to _... pick up the rune_?! 

The drawing had somehow turned 3D once in contact with Stiles’ fingers, and then it dissolved when Stiles blew it in direction of the dirty plates. The plates were instantly clean and dry. He grinned at Scott’s confused expression. “Usually I don’t do this because I don’t actually need it. Also I can do this.”

He turned towards the plant pot on the table, and with a quick gesture of his hand the plant was eradicated from the terrain. “I can control the waters within the plants corpse.” He muttered as he succeeded in killing the plant by taking away the water from it. The plant was now dry and yellowish and there was water floating around with it. “I can relive it though.” He added, somehow squeezing the water back in the plant.

He turned to Scott. “I can control the water and the blood within your body, too. But I can’t relive you if you die.” He added, shrugging. Then he smiled again. “Look at this, Scotty.” He murmured, planting his hand on the ground. He muttered some words in another language, and the ground shook underneath their feet.

Scott was staring at him, a little intimidated. Stiles had seemed like a cool guy when he had first met him, cool and powerful. But Scott had never imagined Stiles to be _that_ powerful. It was almost scary. He did not want him as an enemy.

But Stiles was smiling at him, in that cocky sort of way that Scott had always associated with Erica, Derek and Jackson. _Asshole_ _way_. As in ‘ _are you shitting your pants, yet?_ ’

So Scott smiled back. “Impressive.” He said. “But I’ve seen better.” He sniffed, turning his head.

Stiles chuckled, throwing his hand around Scott’s neck. “As I’ve said before, I like you and I’m going to keep you.”

Scott had then been invited into Stiles’ room, and _okay_. That was not what he expected. When Stiles had told him that he only spent part of his summers in Beacon Hills, Scott had expected an almost empty bedroom and not... not this.

The room was full. Full of stuff. Books where everywhere, on shelves, on the table, under the bed. Mythology books, bestiaries, reading books. Then pictures. A lot of pictures, many of the same woman, that Scott figured out was probably Stiles’ mother. And then in an angle, surrounded by colourful cords was a board. A transparent board. There were names written on the board, initials and words that Scott didn’t understand. He walked towards the board as Stiles threw himself on his own bed.

He didn’t touch anything as he tried to interpretate the words. On the very top of the board were the words ‘ _Claudia Stilinski’_. Right under her name, a date, and two initials: K.A. and S.M.

Under the initials were the names _Sophia Raeken_ , _Morgan Raeken_ and _Louis Raeken_. The names, like Claudia’s, were underlined in red. L.H. was written under their names. Many other names had been written around the board, like _Catherine_ _Greenheart_ , _Sarah_ _Delavigne_ , _CR_ _???,_ and then the name of what Scott assumed where gangs. Or packs. _New_ _York_ _Gang_ , _Delavigne_ _Pack_ , etc. The vast majority of the names on the board where underlined in red.

“What does the red line mean?” asked Scott, after a few minutes.

“Red like war, red like blood. It means murder, Scotty.” Answered Stiles from somewhere on the bed. Scott’s eyes flashed towards the first name on the board. _Claudia Stilinski_. Red line. _Oh_. 

“Who...? Who killed them?” asked Scott. He had already made the link about how all of them were killed by the same person.

Stiles sighed and looked at him. “Me and Theo haven’t found out all their full names, yet. We only know their initials for sure, because whoever kills one of these... people, leaves his initials carved on their bodies. It’s sick, but here we go.” He sat up on the bed. “We know what they look like, though.”

It was weird for Stiles, this level of confidence with someone he had known for barely a day. But he did feel some sort of connection to Scott. His father had possibly not lied about the fact that they were once best friends, because he felt really comfortable with the teenage werewolf.

Scott looked at him in silence, and then spoke. “Me and the Pack are also investigating something. Some disappearances of pack members here in Beacon Hills.” He sighed, sitting down on Stiles’ chair.

“Oh yeah, that Erica you guys were talking...” Scott heard a loud thud as Stiles’ fell on the floor. When he looked back at Scott, his eyes were shining in a macabre excitement as he walked quickly towards the werewolf. 

“What?” asked the Scott, as Stiles picked up a board pen and moved to his board. 

“Erica Reyes. Aiden Carver. Ethan Carver.” He said at once. “Are they all werewolves? Supernatural creatures?” he asked.

Scott nodded, confused. “Yes, they are werewolves. Why?” he asked.

“ _Bingo_.” Muttered Stiles, as he wrote their names on the board. “Fucking bingo.”

“What is going on?” asked Scott, confused.

“Scott! It’s time to go!” called Melissa from down stairs. 

Stiles looked at him dead in the eyes. “I’ll drop by the loft tomorrow at 10.30. I’ll explain everything then.” He answered, as he pushed Scott out of his room, fumbling with his phone.

And weird thing is, Scott trusted and believed him.

* * *

His hip itched. A lot. But Derek forced himself to ignore it as he ran back towards the Hale house, Jackson and Isaac with him. They had made a small run that morning to see if they could catch a scent anywhere, but they hadn’t had such luck. It was frustrating, almost like Erica, Ethan and Aiden had completely dissolved into nothingness.

He stopped in front of his house and eyed in confusion and wariness the car parked in front of it. It was an old blue jeep. Like really old, and Derek was sure he had never seen it before in his life. And he knew his pack well enough to know that they were vain guys who wouldn’t be caught dead on that type of vehicle.

Except maybe Scott, but Scott didn’t have a license.

The mystery was solved quickly enough when he opened the front door and saw the spark from the day before sitting down with Scott, Malia, Kira and Allison in his living room.

His scent was annoying. He smelt like spring, with an undertone of vanilla and home baked cookies. Also there was something like fresh cut grass and rain in his scent. And Derek found it annoying.

His heart beat was also annoying. It was too loud and strange, like the heart beat of a small bird. Quick. Also he couldn’t stay still. He didn’t seem to realise that Derek was in the room, or maybe he was just ignoring him.

His hand was on Malia’s and weird thing was... it was still intact. She hadn’t clawed at his face yet, or straight up cut that hand off his wrist. She was... _letting him?_

The girl was looking at him with a weirdly sad expression on her face, the same expression she had had since the twins had disappeared. Derek knew that she and the twins were friendly, but still he found it weird her reaction to their disappearance. He felt like he was missing something important.

Stiles was smiling down at her. “I can’t promise you they’re alive. But I can promise you, I know who they are and together we might be able to find them.” He said. His heartbeat didn’t hitch. He wasn’t lying.

“What are you doing here?” growled Derek. He didn’t like the way this spark was getting involved with their business.

Stiles turned to look at him, and Malia retreated her hand from under Stiles’. “Oh, hello there, Hottie McBroody.” He nodded in direction of Jackson. “James.” He looked at Isaac. “Where is your scarf, you weirdo?” he asked, confused.

Isaac folded his arms across his chest. “Didn’t it ruin my appearance?” he huffed, annoyed and... _worried_? What the fuck.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “How am I meant to make fun of you, if you don’t even wear the scarf? I said it ruins _my_ aesthetic, and you should say _fuck your aesthetic_.” He sighed melodramatically. “How can I be an asshole and a piece of shit if you agree and listen to me?”

Isaac pouted and then ran upstairs. _To put on a scarf, probably_ , thought Derek, bitterly. Stiles had been there for a day, one day, and here he was, already making Scott his best buddy and Isaac his votary. Malia let him hold her hand, and next thing you know he and Lydia would be exchanging friendship bracelets. Yes, Derek was bitter, because it had taken him about a whole year to even begin to gain the Pack’s trust. His hip itched even more than before.

Stiles smiled at him, warily. “To answer your question, oh almighty Alpha, I am here to offer my help.” He proclaimed.

“We don’t need your help.” Answered Derek immediately. 

Stiles shrugged, but Scott intervened. “Actually, we do.” He glared at the older Alpha.

Allison nodded. “He knows more than you might think you do, Derek. He’s looking for the same people we are.”

Stiles sent a kiss in Allison’s direction as he crossed his legs, looking at Derek with a cocky expression on his face. Derek loathed him. He sat down on the sofa in front of them, Jackson still behind him. Stiles’ grin grew wider.

“Now that we have the Alpha’s attention, I can speak.” Started the spark. 

Why did he keep calling Derek with weird names? “I have a name.” He said, looking at him seriously.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I am not singling you out. I still haven’t call Jacob by his real name, either.” He ignored Jackson’s snarl as he started to talk. “Okay, so, as I was saying... What me and Theo are investigating about and what your pack is looking for. Same people, different reasons.” He shrugged.

Derek scratched his hip. “So what, now you are looking for Erica? And the twins?” he asked, frowning.

Stiles t’ted. “No. We are looking for who kidnapped them. And are trying to kill them, probably.”

Derek sat up sharply. “Who and what are they? How many of them?”

Stiles nodded to himself. “Four. And they are monsters.” He clapped his hands together. “Sad back story time! As some of you may remember, I was born in Beacon Hills, and lived here with my dad and mum. Then at some point when I was 9, my mom went missing. She was kidnapped for a full two months by these... monsters. When my dad found her, she was lying, half dead on the door step of our house.” He seemed to be struggling to keep his face blank. “She had been tortured to madness. She didn’t recognise me at all. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dementia, you name it. She was admitted in hospital in critical situation but she survived. For a whole month, she was on the verge of death, critically underfed.” He took another deep breath. “Then one day... my dad wasn’t at the hospital, I was. I was in the corridor in front of her room, waiting for her to feel better, when these two people approached me. A man and a woman.”

Scott put a hand around Stiles’ shoulders, and Derek dropped his gaze. He could smell Stiles’ distress from where he was sitting, and it was affecting the Pack more than it should have. Stiles cleared his throat. “Anyway, the woman gave me a sweet, said they were here to _cure_ my mom, or some shit. I didn’t believe her, and I didn’t take the sweet. The man went in, and I could see him from the window as he turned off the machines that were connected to my mom.” He laughed bitterly. “They said bye to me. They were like ‘ _Have a nice day, kid. Your mom is already better._ ’”

Stiles fell silent for a moment. “I was sent to New York, because Thals insisted. I never spoke of it, because I never realised that they had actually killed my mother. Then a few months ago, I ran into Theo. He used to go school with me, and his whole family had been burned alive... by _them_. Because they were werewolves. I joined his pack. His pack was destroyed, and this time I witnessed it. I saw them torturing Catherine, saw them humiliate and cut limb by limb Sarah. Why, you might ask?” Stiles paused. “Because that’s... that’s what they do. Then Theo tried to save a member of his Pack by calling demons, pretty stupid if you ask me. I stopped him and he tried to kill me. Then I saved his life when _they_ almost got him, and he saved my life when the demons tried to kill me. So we became friends, and swore to kill _them_.” Stiles fell silent looking outside the window. 

Allison broke the silence. “What are they? What kind of monster does that? Why?” she asked in consternation.

Stiles looked at her with pity. “Robin Hood, they do it because they enjoy it. Also they are monsters. And you know what Scooby Doo taught me?”He looked up and made eye contact with Derek. “The worst and scariest monsters are always human.”

Derek stared at the boy right in the eye. Stiles knew... he knew something. Something about Derek, maybe? But it was something. Derek averted his eyes, focusing instead on the sound of shuffling feet that was coming closer to them. Shuffling feet but no heartbeat: it could only be one person.

“Hello, youngsters! How is it going?” asked the older werewolf appearing inside the room with his coat still on.

His eyes roamed in the room, and when he caught sight of Stiles, he almost knocked himself out. “What... what are you doing _here_?”

Stiles smiled as he saw him. It was an awkward smile, kind of when you see a relative that you haven’t seen in a while and you are not sure you wantto engage in a conversation with them. “Peter?” he asked, unsure. Derek blinked twice. It was the first time Stiles seemed unsure about something. It was annoying.

“What are _you_ doing here?” asked back Stiles, arching an eyebrow questioningly. How the hell did he know Peter?

Peter shrugged as he patted Derek’s shoulder and motioned towards Malia with his head. “Well, I am here with my young relatives, as you can see.”Derek moved away from his hands.

Stiles’ eyes were open wide and incredulous. “What?” he stared at Derek in disbelief. “ _You_ are Derek _Hale_?”

Why was he suddenly so surprised and shocked? And why did his surname matter? Stiles blinked once. “Hold up, but you are an Alpha! Thals... Laura...” his voice left as realisation hit him. 

“It was a fire.” Said Peter. He carefully avoided looking at Allison. “Three people survived. I went rampage and killed one of the survivors, so now there are only two Hales.”

“It was my aunt.” Supplied Allison. “She had been kicked out of the Argent Hunters thing, and she has been locked up in a prison cell.” She said, holding her head high. “She has nothing to do with me.”

Derek was glaring at Peter, avoiding the way Stiles and Allison were looking at each other. “Four survivors.”

Peter rolled his eyes, and spoke to Stiles. “He thinks his sister has somehow survived. Cora.” From the way he looked pitifully at Derek it was clear he didn’t share the belief.

Stiles levelled Derek with a serious gaze. “When my mum went missing, Thals... Your mum came over to my house, to see my mum probably. My dad told her that my mum had disappeared and that they were looking for the body. Your mother wasn’t happy about that. Before she left, I told her to not worry, and that my dad had sent a search party out for my mom. She smiled at that.”

Scott looked confused at Stiles’ words, but Derek understood it perfectly. Stiles’ dad had meant her dead body, because he believed her dead. Stiles instead had said his mom, because he knew she was still alive.

Then Stiles started laughing. Allison and Isaac were looking at him as if that was a bit of an uncalled and harsh reaction from him, but he didn’t stop. “Full offence, dude, but I am sorry for your loss. Laura inherited all the good looks and left you with nothing.” He chuckled.

Maybe Stiles was a dick. Maybe he was weird. Maybe he was suspicious. But honestly, Derek had had enough “ _I am sorry for your loss_ ” and pitiful looks to last him for a lifetime. He grinned at him. “Well, it was you who called me ‘Hottie’ when I came in.” He shrugged.

The entire room stared at him agape as Stiles winked at him. “Well, I guess mother nature has been good for you. From what I remember, you had two adorable bunny teeth when you were younger, and that’s all I remember of you.”

Derek actually blushed as he stood up. “Did not!” he called leaving the room.

“You totally did!” called Stiles after him.

Derek ignored him as he quickly climbed the stairs towards his own bedroom. Once there he reached in his pocket, looking for his key, and once found it, he unlocked the door.

Derek had allowed Peter to do most of the restarting once they had decided to rebuild the Hale house, but he had told him not to touch his bedroom. In fact it was Laura and Cora’s bedroom before the fire, but he had gave up his actual bedroom to Isaac and chose to live there because... it somehow felt better.

He threw his shirt over his head looking for something that wasn’t as sweaty as the shirt felt. He passed his mirror as he walked towards his closet and stopped mid track. There was something on his hip.

The area that had been itching for the whole day was red, but that wasn’t the only thing. It was as if something had been carved in his skin and was now coming off. Derek wasn’t an idiot, and his mother had taught him all he needed to know about the changes in a werewolf body. He knew what that was.

The Hale clan had always called them the mating runes, but their actual names was ‘αγάπη σύντροφο’, _a_ _ gápi sýntrofo _ , which meant literally mate love. It was the symbol that you’d find tattooed on your mate.

Not everyone woke up one day with the mark on his body. Some people could die without ever having the mark. Sometimes the mark showed up on the soul mate several years later. It was highly unreliable.

Derek should have recognized the signs. Feeling like shit lately, the constant buzzing and the feeling like clawing at his own skin.

He passed a hand on the mark, lightly. It was the shape of a rune, a rune that Derek recognized. His mum had a book full of runes once, and the symbol meant confidence.

It looked as if the rune was almost trying to get out of Derek’s skin, with his dark outlines. He honestly had no time for this.

He had only fallen in love twice: his first love had died in his arms and the second had betrayed him and set his whole family on fire. He wasn’t looking for a relationship at all at the moment.

He was just pulling on a shirt when he heard the sound of the front door being opened with a blast. He froze for a second before looking out of the window, in time to see Stiles running after a blur of brown soft fur.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked, descending the stair case and arriving where the rest of the Pack was standing, frozen and unsure of what to do. He grabbed the first person he found- Scott- and shouted in his face. “What happened?”

Scott flinched, taking a step away from him. He shook his head in confusion. “Malia... she said that he was scared and terrified, and then she run out. And Stiles told us not to move and followed her outside. Jackson followed them too.” He answered, still shook.

Derek didn’t need anything else as he started running after them, the trail of half destroyed branches a clear trace of their passage. It didn’t take him long to find them.

At some point Malia had turned back in human form and was standing in the middle of a clearing, looking around her in fear. Derek could smell her anger, frustration and terror from a distance.

Stiles was standing close to her, an expression of wariness on his face as he held a hand on her shoulder. Her shoulder was bleeding.

Jackson was standing next to them, almost confused at what he was doing there.

Derek recognized all this in the few seconds he got there and stopped right next to Malia and Stiles. He was half wolfed out. “You two. What the fuck was that about?” he questioned, nostrils flaring.

The most triggering part? Stiles wasn’t paying him any attention. Malia had flinched and so had Jackson, but Stiles didn’t even look up at him. “Concentrate Malia.” He murmured to the girl.

It was the first time Derek had ever seen Malia in that state. She looked like she was one step away from starting to cry. She looked at Stiles in the eye. “I don’t know! One moment he was suddenly there, terrified and almost crying in my head, and my heart hurt like I don’t even know, and my whole arm hurt and then... silence. Like he’s there... but he’s not making any sound.” She looked between Derek and Stiles. “He’s dying, Stiles! He’s dying.”

“Who’s he?” asked Derek. Again Stiles didn’t answer him. 

Jackson spoke then. “Guys! This is not good... I found Aiden.” He murmured, but it was loud enough for them to hear.

The trio turned around and Derek saw it. Somehow they hadn’t smelt his scent, but here was Aiden. Lying on the ground, behind one of the bushes. His eyes were semi open, there was blood in his mouth and a sword sticking out of his chest.

Malia rushed towards where the boy was and fell on her feet, just as Stiles tried to stop her. “Malia, don’t touch the sword! None of you touch the sword!” he shouted, moving closer.

_ Too late _ . Jackson’s hands were already on the sword as he tried to pull it out of Aiden. He let go of the blade almost immediately, his whole body shaking as he fell down next to the werewolf, having a seizure.

“For god’s sake.” Muttered Stiles, rushing towards the boy and taking out a paint brush. Derek let him do whatever he was doing, his eyes focused on Aiden. He felt like someone had ripped something from his chest and was now proceeding to kill it slowly and painfully.

Aiden... Aiden was pack. More than once he had proved loyalty towards Derek’s pack. Malia was sitting next to him, crying as he struggled to say something to her. “Save... save...” he coughed blood, and yet couldn’t move. 

Derek stared at him in horror. One of his eyes had been severely damaged, he could see the blood in the eye. His clothes were dishevelled, and he had injuries everywhere. He wasn’t healing. 

Two fingers from his left hand were missing and he had a burnt out tattoo of his own full name on his right arm. _As in someone used a flame to embed both his name and his surname on his fucking arm_. His jaw was cut and he had abuse signs all over his chest. The sword in his chest was only the top of the iceberg.

His hands and legs were tied, and... It was terrible. Absolutely terrible.

“Venom.” Muttered Stiles next to him. Derek looked up at him as if he was a stranger. “Even if I tried, I could never save him. For once, I could never take out the sword in time, cause the hydra venom that they injected in his veins is working too fast. Second, if I tried to stop the hydra venom first, he will bled out. Also the sword is covered in some other kind of venom.” The Spark’s hands were shaking, and it was almost as if he was convincing himself to let Aiden go.

Malia’s head snapped in his direction. “Stiles! You do magic! You said you are a spark! Can’t you save him?” she pleaded, tears running down her face.

Stiles didn’t answer, and just stared at her. Both she and Derek could smell the hopelessness coming off him. Then Stiles spoke. “It’s too late. Jordan is here.” He said, looking at the clearing from where they had appeared.

There, standing with almost no clothes on, was the deputy and Theo. Theo looked at the scene, confusion clear in his face as he rushed towards Stiles. “What happened here?” he asked.

Stiles didn’t answer him, instead he looked at Derek. “Parrish is a Hell Bound. Also known as the _purifier_. He burns down the bodies of dead supernatural creatures. No completely, but he kind of burns the supernatural off them.” He nodded towards Malia. “Take her away.”

Derek would have liked to argue. To say no. To refuse, because he didn’t know Stiles and he barely understood what had just happened there, because his brain couldn’t grasp the concept of Aiden being dead, and what happened to Jackson? Stiles continued. “I will look after Jackson. Trust me, Derek, I know what I am doing.”

And Derek, believed him. He ignored Malia’s agonizing cries as Parrish picked up the dead werewolf from the ground and walked away with him. Theo remained with Stiles. Derek saw, from the corner of his eye, the spark watching him carefully as he dragged the screaming Malia away from there.

* * *

Stiles inhaled the fresh air of the morning as he made his way outside the shop, hands full of groceries. One thing that annoyed him about living with his dad, was the lack of food in the fridge. The Sheriff seemed to have developed a survival method that consisted solely in take away and food cooked by Melissa McCall. And Stiles usually saw more take away boxes in the rubbish than homemade food. This was not what Stiles would have described as healthy.

He was walking towards his own house when he noticed a man standing not far away from his house. He was walking with a taller woman, and all Stiles could see of both was the back of their hair. The man had grey hair and looked like he was having trouble breathing, whilst the woman... she was somewhat familiar. She had long blonde locks, and something in her stance was almost predatory. 

They waited a second for a car to stop by, and then the woman helped the older man in the car. When she turned around to hop in, she made eye contact with Stiles. It was as if everything froze, as the woman grinned and then waved at him, before closing the door. The car disappeared in the traffic.

Something about that woman had caught Stiles’ attention, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. The way she had smiled, as if she had recognized him... who was she?

It was with these thoughts that the spark entered in his house, almost like a dark cloud over his own head. “Hey, daddy-o.” He called, when he saw his own father sitting in the kitchen, working through his paperwork.

Stiles came to stand next to him once he settled down all the groceries. “What are you working on?” he asked.

The Sheriff rubbed his temple. “One of the kids has been found. I mean, his body has been found. Almost carbonized.” He said, shaking his head. Stiles’ face was almost carved in stone, emotionless. “He had a freaking _sword_ in his chest, and everything.” He shook his head. “I hope at least his twin is still alive. I don’t want more teenage deaths. We finally had some calm in this town.”

Sometimes, in times like this, Stiles wants to tell his dad. He wants to tell him the truth about everything, the supernatural... but then he remembers how his mother made him swore countless of time not to tell his dad, how Talia came all the way to their house and made him promise, how his grandparents had forced him to keep quiet. If there was one person other than Stiles that Claudia Stilinski wanted to protect, it was her husband. 

Sometimes Stiles felt cheated on. Because sparks are more powerful than witches, in a sense. Yes, witches can do a lot of stuff, like resurrect people and stuff, but all it takes is a circle to make them powerless. They weren’t easy to spot, but at the same time they were. Stiles, on the other side, was a spark. No one could see the difference between him and another human. He blended in perfectly. The only thing that destroyed his powers was garlic and magnetic force fields. That’s why he wasn’t killed that day at the hospital. They thought he was human.

He should have died with his mother.

His father was muttering words as he catalogued the papers in the different folders, when a picture captured Stiles’ attention. His eyes widened in horror.

** Katherine “Kate” Argent. Initials K.A. Status: escaped ** . 

The picture... the woman on the picture... she was the woman at the hospital. The woman he saw a few moments ago in the street. The woman who burned the Hale house down. One of the people who carved their names on Claudia’s body after she was kidnapped.

“Stiles? Son, are you okay?” asked the Sheriff, eyeing his son worryingly. 

Stiles blinked slowly and looked at his father who was looking at him in concern. No way Stiles would risk his life by telling him anything. He couldn’t lose his dad, too.

He smiled as convincingly as possible. “Don’t worry, dad. I’m fine.” He made his way towards the door. “Actually, I gotta meet up with Scott right now, bye!”

“Stiles!” called his father, just as the door closed behind him. The sheriff looked at the door in worry. “Stay safe.” He sighed.

Stiles had already started his car before he realised someone else was inside. He screamed. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK!”, hitting the breaks.

Theo’s face smashed against the window. “What the hell, Stiles!” he groaned, running a hand over the invisible lump on his head.

Stiles stared at him, clutching his heart. “You don’t just appear in people’s cars!” he told him, restarting the car again.

Theo looked at him offended. “For your information, I was already in the car when you came in. It’s not my fault you didn’t see me. Actually, it’s rude how you didn’t even notice me.” He sniffed.

Stiles stared at him as he stopped at the traffic light. “Dude, you being in _my_ car, only makes this shit worse, okay? You should not have been here in the first place.”

Theo shrugged. “I was just bored and waiting for you to get out of the house. Where are we going today, Stiles?” he asked in a fake Irish accent.

Stiles looked at him blankly. “One: you are fucking creepy and I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Two: why the Irish accent?”

Theo looked at him in consternation. “Hello? Niall Horan? _Where are we going today, Mark?_ ” when Stiles’ confusion didn’t dissipate, Theo just shook his head. “You are so _so_ late with trends.”

Stiles didn’t bother answering him, as he pulled through the familiar road that led towards the Hale house. 

“Oh, is that where we are going?” asked Theo, turning around to look at Stiles with a smirk on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that, now?” asked Stiles, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

Theo decided to play dumb. “I am not even looking at your ugly face. Now tell me what is going on.”

Stiles spoke immediately. He didn’t need filter when he spoke to Theo. “The woman who offered me a sweet while the man was killing my mum, she’s K.A. It stands for Kate Argent, who is the one who set the Hale House on fire. She enjoys fires.” He didn’t say it, but from the way Theo tensed it was clear that he had also made the connection. She could have been the responsible of the Raeken fire too. 

Stiles squeezed his knee, as he kept talking. “Well, she broke out of prison a while ago, and I saw her this morning getting into a car. Now we know all of their names and what they look like.”

Theo didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he tilted his head to the side, looking at Stiles with a concentrated expression on his face. “And now we are going to see the other Pack because...?”

Stiles kept his eyes on the road, refusing to make any eye contact with Theo. “It’s as much their problem as it is ours. They have still two missing members.”

“You think they are alive?” asked Theo, doubt clear in his voice.

Stiles turned to look at him this time. “You think CR is still alive, and she has been taken away a month ago.”

“38 days.” Automatically corrected him Theo. He blushed under Stiles’ arched eyebrow and then shrugged. “And I know she’s alive. I know it. She has to. She promised.”

Stiles pressed his lips in a tight line as he stopped the car in front of the Hale House. Before he could move though, Theo put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t owe this pack anything, Stiles. You don’t have and you won’t be able to save everyone.”

“This is not what you said when CR was taken.” Answered the spark, as he got off the car.

By the time he was out of the jeep, Theo was in front of him again, a hand on both his shoulders. His expression was serious. “And yet, I am still by your side, isn’t it?” Stiles scowled at his feet. “You are not here to save the world. You are here to avenge your mother. I am here to save CR and avenge the Delavigne Pack. I want you to still be alive at the end of this.”

Stiles smiled ruefully at him. That had always been the difference between him and Theo. The werewolf had no problem whatsoever in leaving innocent people behind after he had finished doing what he came to do. He wasn’t there for anyone else beside himself. He had no empathy.

The only reason he tagged along with Stiles was because Stiles had saved his life when nobody else was there. And maybe Theo did have an obsession with the spark, who was... his only friend. Beside CR.

Stiles shook his head. “I am not you, Theo. Malia... have you _seen_ her? When Aiden died? I can’t do that. I’ll be there for her, too.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Theo smirked. “You do realise that if I have to choose between saving anyone of that Pack and you, I’ll _knock you out_ and save you, right?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, moving away from him. “Good to know you got my back, bro.”

Theo pouted. “Was that ‘ _bro’_ an attempt at ‘ _No_ _homo’_ , Stiles? Were you trying to deny the chemistry between us?” he called as Stiles walked towards the door, suppressing a grin.

Theo was right behind him when Scott opened the door. “Stiles we are my OTP. I’m hella gay for you. All the homo.” Continued the werewolf, grinning when Stiles finally cracked up, laughing.

Lydia and Derek didn’t seem amused, but the rest of the Pack giggled with him. Kira smiled. “Hey Stiles!” she said, from where she was sitting next to Scott.

“Oh, hi Fox Girl.” He called, sending a kiss in her direction.

“Your scarf looks even uglier than usual.” He informed Isaac. The werewolf flipped him off. Stiles’ grin grew wider.

Then he smiled at Derek. “Hottie, how is Jeremy?”

Stiles hadn’t been at the loft for the whole week. After Parrish had taken Aiden away and burned him (not completely, just a bit), Derek had taken Malia back home. Jackson had come home, alone, about half an hour later, a little dizzy but other ways unscratched.

Derek had almost forgotten how annoying his whole aura was, but he was quickly reminded of it. The way he had just walked in like he owned the place, giving Derek that weird fiz at the pit of his stomach- a fiz of anger, _obviously_ \- and the way he walked, his limbs going everywhere. Ugh, Stiles was annoying.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” asked Jackson, who was sitting on the chair behind Derek.

Derek stared at Stiles as the spark took a look at the werewolf behind him, a smirk firm in his face. “ _Because_ I would have to address you, and I don’t really want to see your pretty face this early in the morning.”

“I am prettier!” called Theo from where he had made himself comfortable on the couch.

Derek remained silent as Stiles sat down on the chair right next to him. He was looking straight at him when he spoke next. “We got the name of all four of the bad guys, although...” he looked at Allison for a moment. “I think there is a fifth one.”

“Luke Howden, whose initials were on all the remains of the Raeken bodies. Meghan Cat, who we witnessed cutting off Sarah Delavigne’s body. Sebastian Moore, who killed my mother and countless others.” And then he looked up at Derek. “And Kate Argent, who not only helped kill my mom but is also responsible of the Raeken and the Hale fire.” 

Derek should have been surprised, but... truth was, he wasn’t. He had sort of expected it. When he had heard that Kate Argent had broken free of prison, he had instantly known that she was going to try and get him and his pack again. He should have let Peter slash her throat instead of listening to Scott and give her to Beacon Hills Police.

Stiles kept talking. “Also, there is another one, and I think he was the one who stabbed Aiden. He had a cane in his hand, and even from far away I could see that it’s made of mountain Ash. Plus the intern was empty.”

Scott looked at him confused. “How do you know this?” he asked.

Stiles rolled his eyes. He pointed at himself. “Spark.” He pointed at his eyes and nose. “Spark powers.” Then he pointed at Scott. “Werewolf.” He pointed at Scott’s head. “Idiocy.”

Scott pouted, and Stiles ignored him. “As I was saying the intern was empty, and I know it’s big enough for a sword.” He stared at Allison intently.

They were having some sort of conversation with their eyes only, and Derek couldn’t help but find annoying the way they gazed into each other’s eyes. Were they in love or something? Isaac still went out with Allison, for god’s sake.

Allison sighed. “Gerard. My granddad.”

Stiles muttered ‘ _bingo’_ , as the huntress started talking. “He came to Beacon Hills just two days before the twins went missing, but... I didn’t make the connection. If I did...” she looked down at the floor.

Stiles was next to her in a second. “Hey, now... Robin, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault that monster exist.” He said, circling the back of her back with his thumb. Derek found the gesture annoying.

Allison looked up at him and shook her head. “Robin Hood?” she was smiling now.

Stiles grinned back. “See? You have such a pretty smile!” he looked at Isaac, and wiggled his eyebrows. “Doesn’t she have a pretty smile?”

Isaac was looking at her with that pathetic love stare that he did sometimes, as he nodded. “She has pretty everything.”

Stiles chuckled standing up and making his way towards the door. “Well, it was nice seeing you and everything, call me when you get a plan or something.” He called.

“Where are you going?” asked Derek unable to stop himself. 

Stiles turned to look at him, an eyebrow arched and a smirk on his face. “To Jordan’s house. Why?” at Derek’s blank face, he rolled his eyes. “Deputy Jordan Parrish.”

Derek suddenly realised that he didn’t really like Jordan Parrish. Okay, he was cool and everything, but he wasn’t very helpful in fights and stuff. Also he always was away from the bullshit and fights that supernatural citizens of Beacon Hills faced constantly. No, he didn’t like the deputy at all. Stiles’ going to see him was even more annoying than Stiles flirting with Allison and staring into her soul.

Theo stood up from where he was sat. “What? I wasn’t aware you had a date today! I was hoping we were going to watch Star Wars today!” he said, indignity colouring his words.

Stiles shook his head. “It’s not a date!” he protested.

Theo pointed at himself. “Then Theo would like to tag along and see Star Wars at Parrish’s place.”

Stiles huffed. “It’s not a date, but we might end up fucking. Last time that we gave you signals that we were going to fuck you ran away.”

“My poor ears!” protested Isaac and Scott, as Theo answered him levelly. 

“Because last time we were in a car- a _police_ car, I might add- and there was no room. Plus, if you are going to his house, then it’s definitely a date. Did he invite you there?” said the werewolf, triumphantly.

Stiles sighed, picking out his keys from his pocket. “He did, but it’s not a date! We are not dating.” He turned to look at the rest of the Pack. “He prefers Star Trek to Star Wars! Who the hell does that? I would never date someone like that!”

Theo looked at the rest of the pack. “They are not dating _yet_. But this is still a _date_. Did he say “ _Netflix and chill_ ” or...?”

“I want new friends.” Whined Stiles. Derek did not find that exactly annoying. His mind was going in dangerous territories. For example, territories where he and Parrish body swapped and...

“The pack needs to stay together.” Said Derek, staring at Stiles. What was he doing? He had not meant to say that. He had not meant to say anything at all, it had just kind of happened. 

Stiles looked at him puzzled for a second, and then patted him on the shoulder. He had a wary expression on his face. “Yeah, you keep your pack together. Also keep an eye on Malia, she might do something stupid.” He said, jokingly. Yet he had been sporting a serious expression when he had said ‘ _your_ pack’.

“You should date me.” Complained Theo as he followed Stiles outside. “Seriously, we would have pretty kids.”

Derek watched them as they go into Stiles’ car, still bickering. There was an unpleasant feeling at the pit of his stomach. Derek wasn’t sure he wanted to dwell on what it was.

* * *

“So...” started Stiles after a few minutes of him and Parrish sitting in the man’s kitchen, doing nothing but eating the rest of his ice cream. Theo was sitting in the living room, casually flicking through different channels.

Parrish pursed his lips, as if he had tasted something sour. “I am not sure how to do this.” He said in the end, putting a hand on his head.

Stiles said nothing, enjoying a little too much Parrish’s distress. “You watched Star Wars and finally realised that all these years you’ve been telling yourself a lie and that Star Wars is better?” he asked him.

Jordan grimaced at that. “I will be dead and in my grave and I still would be saying that Star Trek is better. My tombstone will be saying ‘ _Here lies Jordan Parrish, he’s dead but Star Trek is still better than Star Wars_ ’.” He answered, an arrogant expression on his face.

Stiles grinned. “Cool, cause Theo is watching Star Wars on your TV right now.” He laughed at Parrish’s outraged expression. “Anyway, why did you call me?” he asked, curios.

Parrish’s expression fell. “Right.” He took a deep breath. Then he spoke. “Imetanemissaryandsheshellahotandcuteandilikeheralotandwemightstartdating.” He said, all in one breath.

Stiles stared at him for a full second without blinking. “I have absolutely no clue whatsoever about what you just said.”

Parrish huffed, his cheeks flustered. “I met... an emissary, and she’s hella hot. And cute. And I like her a lot and we might start dating.” He said in the end, very slow.

Stiles looked at him, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Oh my god, dude! It was about damn time that you got your shit together!” Parrish looked at him in surprise. “I am totally going to be your best man at the wedding. Also, you are going to call your first born after me. Stiles Jr, maybe? Or Stiles II! Or just Stiles.”

Parrish started laughing, finally somehow calmer than before. “I... wedding? We are not even dating yet?! You have not even seen her yet!” he sighed. “I thought you were going to be angry, and cry or something.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. And why would I’ve been angry? We are fuck buddies, not dating?” he thought about it for a few minutes. “Though, I guess we aren’t fuck buddies anymore. Oh well, I’ll find someone else.” He shrugged.

Parrish stared at him in disbelief. “You... you are a great person, Stiles.” He said in the end. Seriously: Stiles was amazing, no matter how many times he would say _‘I know_ ’ or _‘Dude, that’s my middle name’_. He just was.

Stiles nodded. “Which is why you _will_ name your first child after me.”

Parrish just ignored the last remark, as he hugged him tight, kissing him on the temple. “I love you.”

Stiles hit him in the balls. “And I love, and I’ll miss, you, Parrish JR.” He said, staring at Parrish’s crotch. Parrish ignored him again, though Parrish JR twitched. _Ah. Classic Parrish_.

Theo and Stiles spent the rest of the morning in Parrish’ house and left only after the man had treated them both lunch. It was a pizza take away, but still.

“Why didn’t you two have sex?” asked Theo once they reached the Stilinski household. Stiles choose to ignore him because something was wrong. One, he remembered closing his window before leaving the house. Two, his window was fucking open. Three, someone had fucking been into his room.

He ignored Theo calling him as he opened the front door and rushed upstairs as fast as he could and... _fucking hell_. Someone _had_ been there.

His room was a mess. His books were all over the place and... his eyes widened in horror as he approached his board. He had, after speaking with Scott and Derek the week before, glued a picture of the three hunters that he already knew were part of the group – Meghan Cat, Luke Howden and Sebastian Moore.

The pictures were on the floor. Someone had come in, looking for them, and now was looking for the hunters.

He knew it before Theo spoke. “Malia has been here.” He said, right as Stiles received a text message from Allison.

** From: ** _Robin Hood_

** Text ** _ : I already told the pack, you should stay home today, or somewhere safe. Granddad went ‘hunting’ today. He went alone, but... _

“For fuck sake!” shouted Stiles, throwing the cell phone to the wall. Theo caught it.

“We need to go and get her!” he said, making his way towards the door already.

Theo stepped in front of the door, blocking his exit. “No.” He said simply.

Stiles stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes wide. “Theo, what part of ‘ _Malia is going to end up dead if we don’t move quickly_ ’ don’t you understand?” he almost spat at him.

Theo’s gaze was hard. “The part where it’s any of your problems if Malia dies or not.” 

Stiles stared at him, momentarily frozen into silence. Why was he doing that? Malia wasn’t his pack. He had nothing to do with her. But then Allison’s face when she was talking about her friend Erica, Kira’s sad expression the first day he met her, and Malia’s screaming when Aiden died... Derek’s everlasting expression of sorrow everytime the words fire or Kate Argent were nominated...

Stiles looked up at Theo. “We are not the only ones who are suffering. Malia is suffering the same grief _you_ had been suffering when CR was taken.”

Theo growled at him. “Do not mention CR. Don’t compare her to Malia or her boyfriend.” He said, his eyes shifting ice blue.

Stiles wasn’t scared. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it, Theo?”

The werewolf charged him, but Stiles, with a swift movement of his hand threw him against the wall of his bedroom. Without looking back, he opened the door and left.

He all but ran to his car, before deciding against taking that piece of crap with him and cutting right through the woods behind his house. He needed to get to Malia before something happened to her.

The terrain was shaken, as in someone had walked that very ground recently and Stiles could only hope that it was Malia and not... not someone else. 

He walked up the hill of the woods, hiding behind trees as he struggled to find her and not being found by anyone else. Then he saw her.

She was standing in the point where, if Stiles wasn’t mistaken (hint: he wasn’t), Aiden had been killed. There was something wild and reckless in the way she stood in the middle of the clearing, her fangs and claws out, looking wildly from part to part, sniffing the air in trace of scents.

Stiles could have knocked her out. A swift movement of his fingers and Malia would have been laying on the floor, away from any kind of harm and safe from any werewolf hunter that approached them.

But then someone put a hand on his shoulder. 

Stiles had lived for years with his grandparents. They were wizards and believed in stern education in terms of studying and combat. He had learnt hand to hand combat since he was freaking 11. 

This is why, although his heart pumped furiously in his chest, he quickly spun around, twisting his attackers wrist and pinning him against the tree. The attacker’s other hand had mechanically sprung into action to protect himself, and Stiles grabbed it too, pinning down both hands with one. He set his arm on the other person’s neck, before he finally recognised his aggressor.

He let him go immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here, Isaac?” he asked the boy, staring at him in disbelief. Blood was still pumping in his brain.

Isaac’s expression was terrified, and he was holding his hand to his neck, struggling to breath. Stiles would have felt bad if Isaac hadn’t just gave him a nearly heart attack. Hidden behind a bush and quickly approaching them, Stiles could see Theo.

“Malia went missing, and Derek was not there, so I volunteered to go look for her. I ran into Theo as I was trying to find her scent.” Answered the werewolf in a whisper.

Stiles shook his head. “You get your ass back to the loft right now, Isaac. Run, now and don’t look... _shit_.” Swore Stiles, when Malia, Isaac and Theo tensed. The hunters were there.

Walking in front was Kate Argent. Her hair was left loose on her back and she was wearing a tight black outfit as she walked, slowly towards Malia. Her eyes shone with humour and a sick pleasure, as she gripped her rifle tighter in her hand. 

Next to her walked another girl, that Stiles immediately recognised as Meghan Cat. Her red hair was collected in a messy ponytail, and unlike Kate, she was sporting a bow and an arrow. Stiles knew that every dart was heavily filled with wolfs bane, and that some of them even had hydra venom all over them. Her attire was identical to Kate’s, except for the leather gloves she was wearing at her hands.

Between Kate and Meghan was walking Gerard Argent. Unlike this morning, he didn’t walk like he was sick and needed help. On the contrary, he walked normally, his cane still in his hand. There was a twisted light in his eyes, although he wasn’t smiling.

_ They weren’t here to play _ , realised Stiles with horror. _They were here to kill_. Malia’s howls and screams the whole week after Aiden’s death hadn’t gone unnoticed, and they were there to destroy her.

Both Theo and Malia’s claws were extended. Stiles could not see his face properly, but he was ready to guess that he was staring at Meghan and remembering the way she had singlehandedly tortured the vast majority of the Delavigne Pack.

“You are Peter’s daughter! What a thrilling course of events.” Giggled Kate, looking at Malia with a smile. Malia bared her fangs at her, ready to jump at her.

Kate winked at her. “Last time I met your dad, he was trying to kill me. Last time I met him _properly_...” her smile grew. “He was in a building with his entire family and _they were burning_.”

Malia’s growl had something inhuman about it. She still didn’t charge.

Stiles had to think fast. He had to get Isaac as far away from there as possible. Theo and Isaac both. He could have a chance, if they didn’t guess that he was a spark. He was the Sheriff’s son, and that saved him once already.

They would know that Isaac and Theo were werewolves, and the way Theo looked like he was about to jump Meghan himself, he had to take him away as soon as possible. 

He turned to Isaac, his eyes flashing amber. “When I hit Theo, you start running.” He grabbed him by the collar of the shirt. “I am not kidding, Isaac. You stand up, start running, and you don’t look back, you don’t stop. No matter what, you get back to the loft. You understand me?” he whispered in his face. Isaac flinched.

Then he nodded quickly, swallowing.

Stiles turned to look at them. The three hunters had already assembled all around Malia, arms in their hands as they stared at her, matching expression of glee on their faces. Stiles felt sick at the pit of his stomach.

Gerard smiled, as he extracted the same sword he had used for killing Aiden from his cane. Malia charged, screaming. “You killed him!”

Stiles stared horrified as Meghan flew the first dart towards Malia, hitting her on the shoulder before she could get to Gerard. Malia screamed in pain, and Stiles held his stomach. He could smell the hydra venom from there.

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Theo ready to jump in and acted immediately. He picked up his paintbrush from his pocket, and drew a rune as quickly as he could. Right before Theo could jump, Stiles threw the curse at him. 

Theo’s body went limp as he was thrown a few metres away, the sound of his body hitting a tree heavier than Stiles would have expected. 

“Who’s there!” shouted Kate, moving towards the bushes, unable to find the source of the sound.

“Now!” shouted Stiles, and Isaac nodded, his face white as chalk as he started running. Stiles stood up as well, running as fast as he could in a different direction from both Theo’s body and where Isaac was running towards.

He heard the sound of shootings, and could almost see the bullets flying past his head. He heard Malia screaming one last time, as a the sound of a sword cutting through her body shook the entire clearing.

Stiles stopped running only once he was sure he thought he was far enough from the hunters. He hid behind a tree, his breath shallow. Stiles hoped against hope that they hadn’t found Theo or Isaac, and that they would just leave.

Stiles didn’t hear the sound of the dart colliding into his shoulder, but he felt it. He gasped for air, trying to not scream in pain. It was a mixture of hydra and kanima venom, he realised in horror. One, he wouldn’t be able to move. Two, being a spark meant that hydra venom didn’t kill you, but... it made you weaker, and gave you hallucination.

Saying that Stiles was starting to panic, was an understatement.

“I knew it was you.” Said the voice of Kate Argent, as she appeared in front of him with a huge smile on her face.

Stiles refused to look scared. Well, his face _was_ locked in a forever half smug half angry expression, so...

“I recognised you, with your bags full of groceries, isn’t it?” She said. Now she was standing right in front of Stiles, grinning at him, as she ran a hand through his hair. Stiles would have recoiled if he could, you know, _move_.

She flickered her gaze, looking at him up and down and whistled. “Ehi. You got hot. You look almost nothing like the 9 years old kid who refused my sweets.” She added, touching the arrow. She pushed it in, and Stiles almost screamed. 

She smiled. “Old habits die hard, I see. You were hanging out with the Hales and that witch that you had for mum before, and you still run with werewolves now.” She smiled at the panic in Stiles’ eyes. “Yeah, Meggie is looking for your other friend right now.”

She touched his chest, and dragged her finger down his body. Stiles felt sick. “You really are hot. And you are legal! What’s better than that?” she moved her hands further down, toying with the elastic of Stiles’ pants as she inched their faces closer to each other.

Stiles was not panicking. He was PANICKING. And Stiles had never panicked. But here he was, alone, with Theo knocked out, Isaac running somewhere half dead, an arrow in his shoulder that hurt like a bitch, with a hunter looking for his friends and a grown psychopath who was threatening to rape him right there and right now.

She licked his jaw, and put her hand in his pants and Stiles spat on her, struggling to keep her away from him. 

Kate moved away from him, startled and disgusted. “You fucking idiot, I just washed my hair!” she screamed and then punched him in the face.

Stiles blacked out, and the last thing he heard was a howl of pain.

* * *

An atrocious pain at his shoulder was what it took for him to come back to his senses. Someone had chose to indelicately tore the arrow from his shoulder. The hydra venom was now running through his body, and it hurt more than before.

He kept his eyes closed in pain for a second, but then forced them open. He was lying on a couch... Derek’s couch. He was at the loft. Scott was looking down at him, and he could feel two hands on his neck. Boyd and Jackson. It took him several second to realise they were trying to take away some of his pain.

Derek was sitting very close to him, at the edge of the bed, and was staring at him with a guarded expression. Almost as if he was trying to keep all his emotions at bay.

Then Stiles realised that, yeah, he was in the loft. Which meant Kate had probably left him alone after she had punched him, which also remained him of...

He sat up too quickly, pain shooting through his arm as he looked wildly around. “Theo? Isaac?” he asked frenetically, trying to spot the familiar werewolves.

“I am here.” grunted Theo, and Stiles finally breathed out in relief. Theo was sitting on one of the couches, with Lydia cleaning his injuries so that they wouldn’t heal infected, and a block of ice on his head. Other than that, he seemed fine.

And then Stiles realised in horror that Isaac wasn’t there. Which is why Allison was sitting in a corner in silence, looking at her feet and trying not to cry.

“Where is Isaac.” He asked, clenching his fists. This sent a new wave of pain from his shoulder, but Stiles didn’t care.

Boyd and Jackson took a step away from him, and even Derek looked at him in worry. His heartbeat had always been high, but now it was getting way higher than usual.

“Where is Isaac! They can’t have him!” shouted Stiles, his whole body trembling. Some part of him wondered whether this was his way of coping with Kate’s attack, nerves or the hydra venom. It was probably a mixture of all three.

Scott flinched away from him, as Stiles felt the firsts sparks flying away from the tips of his fingers. 

Theo’s eyes widened. “Scott stop!” he shouted, too late, as Scott put a hand on Stiles’ sane shoulder, hoping to calm him down somehow. He was shot across the room and collided with the walls.

He didn’t lose consciousness, but it still hurt.

Stiles’ eyes were not lucid, he was not seeing them. He wasn’t realising what was happening inside the room.

“Everyone, get out.” Ordered Derek, and no one thought about disobeying. No one but Theo.

The werewolf winced and walked towards him, the ice still on his head. “Who do you think you are? I am not going anywhere, you are not my Alpha.” He bared his fangs at him, eyes shifting blue.

Derek’s eyes shifted red. “If you have any other brilliant idea then speak. If not, leave _my_ loft. If you are a werewolf, you should know that when you are in another Alpha’s domain, you submit to him until you leave, _Omega_.”

Theo looked at him like he wanted to argue, but then he shut up. He gave Derek a scowl, before saying.“Just because Stiles seems to trust you, doesn’t mean I do.” He said in the end, walking out and closing the door behind him.

Derek looked down at Stiles. The Spark was shaking all over, and tears were making their way down his cheeks. His breaths were shallow and it was clear he was having difficulty breathing. Derek didn’t know what he was meant to do, all he knew was just that he didn’t want any of the other to see Stiles in that state. Trembling, with his shirt soaked in fresh blood, with little, if no, control over his own body.

Suddenly Theo’s words rang through his head. Stiles _trusted_ him. And Stiles was not there with his head at the moment. He needed an anchor.

Derek tried to put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, and surprisingly, he wasn’t thrown away like Scott had. He took a deep breath and leant in.

* * *

_ The sounds of the entire room seemed to slowly dissipate, as Stiles found himself, 9 again, running through the woods with his mother. _

_ “Stiles, come here!” she was shouting at him, her feet quick and light on the ground. Stiles couldn’t see her face, but he could guess her scared expression. He didn’t know why his mom was scared. _

_ They didn’t stop running until they got back to their house. She was looking at him seriously. “One day you  _ will _be able to stop them.” She said. Stiles didn’t know what she was talking about. “Listen to me, Stiles. If something was ever to happen to me, listen to whatever Thalia tells you to do. Even if she says something weird like ‘come and live with us’. Okay? Just listen to what Thalia says, and protect her as much as you can.”_

_ Stiles had nodded, seriously. “I will protect you, and Thalia, and Laura, and Cora.” He seemed thoughtful for a second. “Actually Laura will protect me. But I will protect her too.” He said. He was mature enough to know that Laura was way stronger than him, and that she could totally kick his ass. _

_ His mom had smiled. Then she had disappeared. _

_ He was 10 now, and the doctor was holding him tight, saying something about his mom being dead? Stiles wanted to tell her that no, she was wrong. Two weird doctors had came in and said that him mum was better already. His mom wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. He had to protect her. _

_ He was still 10, and Thalia was shouting at his dad, telling him to take Stiles to New York as soon as possible. Stiles was sitting down in the corridor with Cora. He liked Cora. She was 9 and very nice to him all the time. Well, as nice as she could be. She made fun of him most of the time, but she played with him anyway. _

_ “He’s my brother.” She said, suddenly, when a boy appeared in the room, an ecstatic expression on his face. She giggled. “He’s got a girlfriend!” she said loudly enough for him to hear. _

_ Stiles hadn’t looked up at the boy, too busy trying to hear what his dad was saying to Thalia. At some point one of them had started to cry. Stiles knew it was his dad. Thalia did not cry. _

_ “Hey, little soldier, are you okay?” asked him Cora’s brother, his sister locked in a head lock and a finger on Stiles’ forehead. Stiles had pushed him away, with a ‘leave me alone!’. He didn’t like Cora’s brother. He was attractive, and cute, and Stiles wanted him banned from Beacon Hills. _

_ “Your heart is racing.” Commented Cora with a smug grin. Stiles flipped them both off, running away to Laura. _

_ He was 11 now, living at his Grandparents’, and there was a kid looking at him from a bit far away. Stiles remembered the kid. His name was Theo. They were never friends, but they used to sit together in Spanish, because Scott didn’t do Spanish. Stiles missed Scott, but he wasn’t allowed to call him. His grandma allowed him one call per weekend, and Stiles always ended up calling his dad. He had tried calling Thalia once, but she hadn’t picked up. His grandma had later deleted Thalia’s number from their contact list. _

_ He was 12 now, and he met Theo again. This time he was wolfed out and was running with a Pack. Stiles had watched him from afar, safe in his grandparents coven. _

_ He was 13 now, and his granddad was teaching him how to combat. Stiles lost every time, but he kept coming back to fight him. His granddad said that he truly had the spirit of the phoenix in him.  _

_ He was 14 now, and his grandma was teaching him to read and write runes. She gave him a stilo that looked like a paintbrush as a present. She said it was his mother’s first ever stilo. Stiles never lost it. _

_ He was 15 now, and his granddad told him that he wasn’t a witch, so he could not stay in the coven forever. A coven was not a pack, it was not a family. Stiles left his grandparents house. He got a phoenix tattoo on his back first thing. _

_ He was 16 now, and he had rented an apartment right in front of Theo’s house. He could see Theo every day before he went to school, but Stiles didn’t speak to him. His grandma still homeschooled him. Now he could text his dad every time, and go to Beacon Hills every time he wanted to. He never went to Thalia, angry that she had never picked up her phone when he tried to call her, and angrier that she had never called him. _

_ He was 17 now, and there was a new deputy in his father’s office. His name was Jordan Parrish. Stiles invited him to dinner, under his father’s outraged face. Jordan accepted. He was only three years older than Stiles, the youngest deputy in the office. _

_ He was 18 now, and he and Parrish had left away the pretences at dating and became friends with benefits. Both found the thing equally thrilling. He came down to Beacon Hills once a month now. _

_ He was still 18 when he joined the Delavigne pack, and became friends with CR and Theo. CR was really nice to him, or as nice as she could be. She still made fun of him every time she could, as if she remembered something that he had forgotten. _

_ He was barely 19 now, when the hunters attacked the Delavigne’s pack. Theo and CR were locked away, but Stiles saved himself. He took out his stilo and liberated Theo. He didn’t have time to save CR. Theo punched him. _

_ He was 19 now, when he and Theo came back to Beacon Hills. Aiden was dead. Malia was dead. Isaac had been kidnapped. _

_ He had spent 10 years of his life trying to protect people and more often than not, these people ended up dead. And yet, here he was, still alive. Still breathing. _

_ He wanted to... he wanted to... _

Stiles’ eyes opened with a start. There was a pair of lips on his mouth.

* * *

Derek wasn’t completely inexperienced when it came down to kisses. He had kissed girls and boys before. Even after his family had died, he and Laura had continued going to college, and he hadn’t missed any of the typical college experience. Kisses, sex: anything but getting drunk, because... werewolves can’t get drunk.

And yet, when his lips collided with Stiles, he felt as if he had just been electrocuted. His whole body felt on fire. He felt Stiles’ body stopping to shake under his hand, but didn’t open his eye. Everything was on fire, and Derek wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t think.

One single kiss with Stiles, and his brain was fried, he couldn’t think about anything else beside the soft push of Stiles’ lips on his own. Derek had never thought that Stiles’ lips would be so soft, and welcoming. They fit perfectly with Derek’s hard lips, and everything just... fit.

Finally Derek realised that Stiles was in fact not shaking anymore and willed himself to move away from his lips. He moved away slowly and then opened his eyes.

Stiles was staring at him, his amber eyes slightly dilated and an expression that Derek wasn’t sure he could read on his face. There was confusion, nervousness and many other things in Stiles’ eyes. 

“Why... why did you do that.” Asked Stiles, his voice strained, as he gripped tightly the edge of the bed.

Derek wanted to say that it was because Stiles needed an anchor. But suddenly he didn’t know. He didn’t think that it was a legitimate excuse. All he had been thinking about in that moment was Stiles’ lips. Nothing else.

“I... I don’t know.”He answered, the lie evident to his own ears. “I was trying... to help.” He said in the end.

Stiles looked down at his hands, and didn’t look at Derek in the eye. Only then the werewolf realised that the injury had stopped bleeding, but Stiles’ shirt was soaked with blood. He spoke without looking at the boy. “I have some... some shirts. Clean shirts. And I can help clean...” he waved in direction of his shoulder.

Stiles didn’t answer, but Derek knew he had heard him. The werewolf stood up on his feet and walked towards his bedroom. He heard Stiles following footsteps.

Derek’s heart was pumping faster than it had ever done. It was like he had touched an exposed wire and instead of burning he was still completely fine if not a little fizzy. His senses were sharper than they had been the whole week, or month, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so... alive. 

And this scared the hell out of him.

He went straight to his wardrobe, looking through his shirts for something that wasn’t too big for Stiles to wear. He found an old looking red t-shirt in his closet that seemed too small for Derek, so probably the right size for Stiles.

When he turned around he saw that Stiles was slowly taking off his shirt. He was standing with his back to Derek, and the werewolf stared transfixed at the tattoo that extended on his back. It was a phoenix.

The tattoo was black against Stiles’ pale skin, the phoenix’s wings distended as in ready to fly. Its wings seemed made of pure black fire and the way the phoenix faced towards Stiles’ left side, and yet still seemed to be looking right at Derek.

Derek wanted to move from where he was standing and touch the tattoo, feel the heat beneath it, ask Stiles the meaning behind it. His fingers itched with desire.

Stiles’ shirt hit the floor with a small thud, but it was enough noise to make Derek start moving. The teen hadn’t turned to look at Derek. The werewolf took a deep breath. “Sit on the bed, I am going to get the aid kit.” He said, moving towards the bathroom.

When he came back, he was surprised to see that Stiles had listened to what the werewolf had said. It was weird for Derek to see Stiles like this, almost defeated. It made him want to turn and scream and hit something or someone.

Derek stopped in front of him and lowered himself on both knees. Stiles’ eyes snapped immediately to his face, and Derek tried to hide his flush as he held cotton and alcohol in his hands. He could see the tip of the arrow still stuck in Stiles’ shoulder, which is why he wasn’t healing at all.

He looked at Stiles in the eye, searching for god knows what, and the spark nodded once. “I trust you.” Said Stiles simply.

Derek’s heart was bellowing in his chest as he slowly and as less painfully as he could extracted the tip from his shoulder. Stiles hadn’t screamed, but he had held on Derek’s shoulder and gripped tight every time it hurt.

Derek was busy cleaning the wound and averting his eyes from Stiles’ chest and lips when he saw it. Down his left arm, a small rune engraved into his skin. A small rune that looked exactly the same as the rune engraved on his own body.

The rune meant  confidence.

“When... How... did you get this?” asked Derek, without meeting Stiles’ eyes. His voice sounded strained even to his own ears. “I thought only werewolves had this.” He added after a second.

Stiles’ eyes were closed. “I’ve had that... for a long time. And the fact that I have it means that my mate is most probably a werewolf.” He said in the end.

Derek should have known. Of course he was drawn to Stiles. It was all due to magic, it had nothing to do with feelings or what not. Stiles had showed up, out of nowhere and the mark had appeared on Derek’s body. His wolf was drawn to Stiles because of that small stupid mark.

Derek had learnt the hard way to not let his wolf make decisions for him. His wolf had fallen for Kate Argent, and his wolf was the reason he suddenly had a pack of teenagers to look after. Neither had been one of his brightest ideas.

_ And if his wolf liked Stiles and saw him as a suitable mate... then no way Derek was going to fall for the teenage spark _ , he decided, as he bandaged the wound with the white bandage.

Derek felt cheated on. He had thought... never mind what he had thought.

_ The kiss wasn’t fake, though _ . Said a voice in his head. Derek shook his head. He had just exaggerated the whole thing in his head, nothing had happened. It had just been a normal kiss.

Derek reached for the shirt he had picked out for Stiles, when the spark stood up suddenly, taking it from his hands. He was looking at his feet, the shirt clutched in his hands. “Since you don’t seem too prone to stop looking at me like that, I think I can handle putting the shirt on myself.” He said, walking towards the door.

“Like what?!” asked Derek. But he knew. He knew what Stiles meant, even before the spark whispered it.

Stiles said it in a low voice, full of hurt. “Like I am the worst thing that ever happened in your life.” Then he left, closing the door behind him.

Derek stared at the door for a full minute before finally standing up. His head was hurting and he didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to think about Stiles. He didn’t want to think about anything.

When he finally made it downstairs he found an unpleasant surprise awaiting him. The whole pack was back in the room with... Deputy Parrish. 

The deputy immediately walked up to him, when Derek made it inside the room. “Where is Stiles?” he demanded, looking at him straight in the eye. The deputy was not any taller than Derek, but his usually kind green eyes looked like an angry ocean tempest. 

“I asked you a question, Derek Hale.” Said the deputy again, his voice raising dangerously.

Derek was pissed. Why did he think that he would have hurt Stiles in any kind of way? Derek would have never hurt Stiles.

But Stiles was hurt. Stiles was hurt because Derek didn’t know how to control his own wolf, how to differentiate between lust of his wolf and feelings of the human part of him. 

Still, he did not like the way Parrish was standing in front of him like he wanted to paunch at him. And maybe hurt his pack. “Don’t come to my face like that.” He growled at him.

Parrish did not move, even when Derek’s eyes shifted red. “I asked you a question.” He said instead.

“Jordan!” called Stiles, as he appeared down the stairs. He had changed into Derek’s shirt and there was no more trace of blood on his body. His face was still very pale, and there was something troubled and haunted in his amber eyes.

The deputy moved immediately away from him, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ body. Derek tensed, knowing already that he was going to hurt Stiles with the hug. The spark made a small pained noise, and Parrish let go of him immediately, worry clear in his eyes. 

Derek was glad. No, his _wolf_ was glad.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, checking Stiles for signs of abuse on his body.

“I’m fine.” Lied the boy. Did Stiles just attempt to lie in a room full of werewolves? 

Jordan squinted his eyes at him. “You are clearly not okay. Come with me for a walk.” He prompted holding up his hand.

Derek wanted to rip that hand off. Stiles looked at the Hell Bound, and he had that weak expression that he had been sporting in Derek’s bedroom. The one that made the werewolf want to kick and rip stuff apart. Then he intertwined his fingers with Parrish.

Parrish gave a look to Theo before leaving the room. “You wait here. I’ll come and get you when we are done.” He told the werewolf, serious.

Theo grinned at him. “Sure. Have fun, sweeties.” He said, sending them a kiss. The deputy rolled his eyes and followed Stiles outside.

Stiles walked slowly next to Jordan, their hands brushing against each other as they casually strolled, neither of them daring to break the silence. The sky was a little full of clouds, but you could still feel the sun on your skin.

Jordan sat down on a rock right at the edge between the Hale property and the thick woods. Far enough from the house to ensure that the werewolves couldn’t hear them, and not too deep in the woods to risk running into any dangers.

Stiles sat down in front of him, quiet for a few moments. Parrish sighed. “Stiles, what happened?” he asked gently.

Stiles did not want Jordan involved in this as well. He wanted the deputy to be safe and far away from there. The deputy... 

Parrish had been Stiles’ first real friend since his mother had died. Sure, there had been Cora, but he had left too soon to remember anything about her. Or about Scott. Everything had gone too quickly.

When they had tried dating, Stiles had been afraid that if their relationship had ended, they could have never been friends anymore. He had been scared that Parrish would just move on to the another person and forget about Stiles completely.

But when they had finally sat down and talked their feelings for each other down, and somehow found a compromise that was suitable for both of them, Stiles had felt a huge weight being moved away from his chest. 

He could not lose Parrish too. 

He looked up at the man. “If I ask you to leave Beacon Hills for a few days, would you do it?” he asked, gripping his hand.

Jordan didn’t miss a bit. “Maybe. If I knew you would be okay and safe, probably yes. If you told me what is worrying you right now beside this, definitely yeah.”

It was nice hearing that Parrish trusted him so much. He smiled. “I am okay, Jordan. I just...” he shrugged. “Sometimes I just feel like I am not enough, you know? Like I could do more but I am not smart enough to figure out what to do or something.”

Jordan smiled at him, looking down at their entwined fingers. “Stiles, you are an amazing person.”

“I hear an upcoming ‘but’.”

“But...” Parrish smiled sadly. “But you can’t do everything alone. Sometimes you gotta trust other people with other things. Some things you can’t do Stiles. Let’s not beat around the bush: you could have never known what had happened to your mum. You could have never saved her. And not because you weren’t smart enough. It was because you were still 10, and nothing could have prepared you for that. Nothing could have prepared you to know that monsters actually do exist, and don’t wear furry masks like you have been hearing since you were freaking 2 years old. You could have never known that monsters look just like you do, and have the face of a friend, a parent, a relative or a stranger.

You could have never known what happened to the Hale Family, not because you were stupid and didn’t figure it out. Thalia had never wanted you to know, or she would not have sent you to New York. Thalia has been your mum’s best friend for years, she knew what your grandparents would have said and how they would have treated you.

You could have never saved both CR _and_ Theo. Not because you were stupid: but because you are human. You might be a spark, but you are only human, and it was fucking brave of you saving Theo in the first place. And he knows it. Maybe he was angry about it at first, but then even he knew that, if it was down to you, you would have saved both. He is still by your side.

You could have never saved Aiden. It was too late for him, and you could have never known that Malia would have actually went crazy and for the kill. You warned them, and that’s all you could have done, Stiles.

You are fucking brave and amazing, and sometimes you need someone to remind you that.” Said Parrish, with a sigh.

Stiles looked at Parrish for a long moment, in silence, as tears ran down his cheeks. He didn’t try to hide them, he just stared at the deputy for a few moments before wrapping his left arm around Parrish’s neck, burying his face into his neck. “Thank you, Parrish.”

Parrish didn’t answer, just gave him a chaste kiss on the temple.

* * *

“If you don’t finish that coffee, it’s going to turn ice cold and then you are going to start bitching at me.” Said Parrish, as he stopped his car outside the Martin’s household.

Stiles, who was sitting comfortable in the back seat of the car, didn’t say anything. He had the flask cup in his hands and was drinking the coffee. Sipping it, actually.

“’M drinking.” He murmured, his eyes outside, waiting for the familiar red head to appear.

Parrish looked at him amused. “Just a quick question, but did you go to sleep at all yesterday? Cause you were awake when I fell asleep, and you were awake when I woke up.” He commented.

“Uhm. I did sleep. Not my fault you woke up at 12 am, and I woke up at 11.30.” He sipped his coffee again, sniffing. “Also, you still snore.” He added, smiling softly against his cup.

Parrish looked at him offended. “Hey! I don’t snore! You are a filthy liar.” He said, mock outraged.

Stiles rolled his eyes, stretching. “Ugh, I’m so tired.” He mumbled again, taking another slurp of his drink.

The deputy just arched an eyebrow. “Have you at least found what you were looking for?” he asked, as Stiles gulped down the remainings of his drink. 

Stiles scoffed. “Obviously. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Uh, we’re cocky today. Calm your tits, Riker.” He said, as the passenger and back door opened.

Lydia jumped on the seat next to Stiles, while Theo settled down at the front. The red head had a large handbag in her hand, and Theo was holding a smaller make-up bag for her. 

“Before you say anything, I saw him walking towards Parrish’s house from the window and asked him to come and help me.” Said the girl with red hair, holding the bag in her lap.

Theo looked at Stiles with wide eyes. “By that she means that she forced me to come and pick hand by hand clothes _and_ make up that would suit you.” He said, grimacing at the memory.

Stiles groaned. “Oh, come on Lydia. You were just meant to find some clothes, not all this!” Well, he _had_ asked the _queen_ of fashion after all. This had to be expected.

Lydia smirked. “Well, it’s not every day that I get to dress you up like a Barbie doll.” She said, arching a perfect eyebrow.

Parrish looked at them confused. “I think this conversation has nothing to do with me, so I am going to pretend I can’t hear you guys.”

Theo smiled at him. “That’s a smart decision. Also...” he wriggled his eyebrows. “Stiles, are those Parrish’s clothes? As in you spent the night at Parrish’s?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Not now, Theo. And yes, so what?” he asked, holding out a book for Lydia to see. 

Theo was grinning. “So, you smell of him. Like, you literally reek of Parrish, which makes me think... you totally slept in his bed, since his couch sucks and he has no guest room.” He looked at Parrish for a second. “Man, your whole house sucks.”

“Geez, thanks.”

“We slept in the same bed, but we didn’t sleep _together_.” Clarified Stiles, sighing loudly.

“Then why are you wearing his clothes? Does he love you smelling like him that much?” asked Theo again, enjoying this way too much.

Stiles refused to answer him, to which Theo’s face was literally radiating with joy.

“Are you 100% sure that this works?” asked Lydia, finally giving him the book back.

Stiles held both thumbs up. “Deffo. If I wasn’t, I would not have used it.”

The banshee nodded, and picked up her phone. She opened the notes app, and started typing away. After some seconds, she passed her phone to Stiles.

_ So, what happened between you and Derek? He was way more moody than usual, after you and Parrish left. _

Stiles looked up at her, and then at Parrish and Theo chatting at the front. He frowned, but answered anyway.

_ I did not do anything to him. I don’t know why he’s annoyed. _

_ Why so defensive? I just asked a question. _

_ I am chill.I am not defensive. I just answered your question _ _. _

_ You are lying to me. Something happened. _

Lydia was stubborn, but Stiles was even more stubborn. He didn’t answer her last note, and immediately jumped out of the car when they got to the loft.

“Thank you, deputy.” Said Lydia, holding her bag as she walked away towards the house.

“Yeah, cheers mate.” added Theo, following her inside, after winking at Stiles alluding. The spark rolled his eyes at him.

“So... when I text you...” started Stiles, but Parrish stopped him.

“We went through this yesterday night. When you text me, I go and ask Muriel out, and if she says yes, I take her with me at Disneyland for the weekend. If she says no, I go to Disneyland for the weekend. Whatever the outtake, I have to go Disneyland this weekend.” He sighed. “Are you going to tell me why?”

Stiles smiled. “Not a chonce.” At Parrish’s questioning gaze, he shrugged. “Theo says that all the time.” He moved forward and hugged him tight. “Whatever happens, I love you.” He said, sincerely, holding him tight.

“Right now, you are scaring me.” Chuckled Parrish. Then he hugged him back. “I love you too, Stiles.” He kissed him gently on the forehead, before letting him go. “I’ll see you next week!” he called, before getting into the car.

Stiles waved him goodbye one last time before rushing towards the Hale house.

Lydia was already on the floor, drawing a small circle with a piece of chalk on the floor.

“Hello, Lydia explained what we gonna do, I take, yes?” said Stiles, entering the room.

Theo smiled. “Oh, you are finally here! What have you guys been doing all this time out there, I wonder.” Said the werewolf, looking at him with a sly smile on his face.

Scott laughed, but the rest was looking at Stiles expectantly. 

“What Lydia said was enough to convince me that this is a dumb idea.” Said Jackson, from where he was sitting next to Derek. The Alpha werewolf hadn’t stopped staring at Stiles since he had entered the room, his poker face somehow irking the spark.

Jackson continued his rant. “You are going to end up killed if someone realises what you are doing.”

Stiles smiled. “Aw, Jonathan, that’s so sweet! You care about me!” he said, sending a kiss in his direction.

Jackson flushed, and shook his head repeatedly. “No! It’s just that you saved my life, and obviously...” he shrugged uncomfortably, struggling with his own words.

Theo smirked, and addressed him from across the room. “Don’t worry, Jackson. Falling in love with Stiles is a natural process of life. Even your friend Boyd is stumbling through the love period of his life.” 

Boyd sent him a cold glare, but he didn’t deny, which only made Theo’s smirk grow wider.

Stiles ignored them, as he approached Lydia’s bag. He looked up at the banshee in horror. “Okay, you’ve got to be kidding me. High heels? A fucking dress?”

Lydia smiled, as Kira held up the make-up bag she had snatched from Theo. “Come on, Stilinski. Are you going to chicken out on me?” she asked, in challenge.

Stiles held up the bag of clothes and walked out of the room. “Fine!” he said, leaving the room.

Derek watched him disappear and forced himself to breathe in from his nose again. He almost growled. He could not smell Stiles’ scent at all. It was gone, completely overpowered by Parrish’ smell, and Derek hated it. 

When he had seen Stiles walk in the room, without Derek’s shirt on and with Parrish’ hoodie and jeans on, he had to tune down the impulse to run up the boy and scent him, and then wash him until the smallest hint of Parrish’s sent was gone.

Not that Parrish scent was bad. It was just that he found highly offensive and completely _wrong_ smelling Parrish on Stiles. He needed to stop thinking about Stiles that way. And also, wasn’t his wolf supposed to love Stiles in all sizes and shapes? To just love him because of what he had inside as in to love his soul or whatever?

Derek was confused.

His skin irked even more when Stiles walked back into the room wearing some of Lydia’s clothes. It was highly unsettling, and everyone in the room seemed a little disturbed from the image.

Scott spoke what the whole pack was thinking. “Dude, no offense, but... you’ll never pass for a girl.” He said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “This is why me, Lydia and Boyd are the brains of this operation and not you and the others.” He sighed. “Boyd, do you have anything with Isaac’s scent?” he asked.

Boyd nodded, and took out of a plastic bar Isaac’s scarf. Allison looked pointedly in another direction as Boyd placed the scarf in the circle that Lydia had drawn.

Stiles sat on the floor, the skirt of the black dress touching the ground as he picked up his stilo. Everyone stared at him in silence as he drew on the floor two separate runes. He picked the first one, a rune that Derek recognised as ‘inquiry’ and put it on top of Isaac’s scarf. The scarf lit up for a second, and then disappeared, leaving a small silver watch instead.

The watch had a small circular screen and seemed halfway between a digital and a normal watch. There were a green arrow and a red one. Instead of the numbers, there were words. ‘ _Alive’_ and ‘ _Dead’_ were written in green at the part where number 12 and 6 were supposed to be; number 2 had ‘ _east’_ written, number 5 ‘ _south’_ , number 8 ‘ _west’_ and number 11 had ‘ _north’_.

At the moment the green arrow was on ‘ _Alive’_ , while the red arrow was stuck on ‘ _south_ ’. Stiles hummed appreciatively as he picked up the second rune and held it in front of his own face. Lydia nodded once, and blew the rune in his face.

Derek was not the only one to let out an audible gasp as Stiles’ features began to mutate. His air grew longer, as his fingers grew shorter. His eyelashes didn’t not change in length- Derek had noticed more than once how long Stiles’ eyelashes were- thought they seemed to become more curvy. His whole body grew more curvy and his breasts grew enough to fill the bra that he had been wearing inside the dress. His lips became pink-ier, whereas his hair became a shade lighter than before.

Stiles stood up on the heels that Lydia had picked for him and made a short twirl. His lips quirked in a smile at the others’ surprised expressions. 

“How are you a better girl than me?” asked Kira, frowning slightly.

Stiles grinned. “Sweety, don’t say that.” He said, and even he flinched slightly at the high pitch of his own voice. “This is great! I am a hot girl.”

Scott nodded, an eyebrow arched. “You are the hottest girl.” He assured him.

“Would you do me?” asked Stiles, and Derek realised that he was talking to him.

It was obvious that Stiles was joking and that he didn’t actually mean it. Probably he was trying to forget the weirdness of the day before. But Derek couldn’t help it. This... this was not Stiles. He didn’t smell right, he didn’t look right, he wasn’t right. All he had in common was the mark on his shoulder that was now exposed because of the dress, and the tattoo that Derek was sure was still there.

It still wasn’t Stiles.

“Stiles, I would die for you.” Said Theo, after Derek had just stared at him for almost 20 seconds, without blinking nor answering.

Stiles had quickly turned to his friend, quickly shaking off how creepy Derek’s stare had been. “Well, that was something that we’ve all known for a long time, isn’t it.” He turned to Jackson. “What do you think, Jacopo?”

Jackson looked at him, his cheeks slightly flushed as he scowled. “What kind of name is Jacopo?”

Stiles shrugged, as he picked up the watch and sat down in front of Kira. “I almost finished all the names that start in ‘J’.” He explained, as the girl started putting make up on him.

“You need to take a chill pill.” Said Theo, and Derek had not even realised the boy was standing so close to him. He squinted his eyes at the younger werewolf. Theo shrugged. “I might act really dumb at times, but I’ve got eyes, and I’m Stiles’ friend. I see and know what happens. I joke a lot and tease, but I’m not stupid.” 

Derek stared at him as he walked back to where Lydia was applying make-up on Stiles’ face. “I think the red lipstick will work fine on him.” said the werewolf loudly, as Stiles groaned, repeating how it was not necessary.

“I think... I think he can save them.” Said Boyd, still sat next to Derek.

The Alpha looked at him. It had been days since Boyd had last spoken to him. “Who?” but he knew who.

“He’s weird, but he’s brave. The plan helps him, of course, but it’s mostly helping us. If he finds Isaac, there is a high possibility of him finding Erica, too. And Ethan.” His eyes bored into Derek’s. “And he has no reason to do that. He had no reason to go into the woods looking for Malia, no reason to follow her when she had run outside that first day. He didn’t have to save Jackson. He’s...”

“Different.” Concluded Derek. He felt Boyd’s eyes on him, but the other werewolf didn’t answer.

“You are smoking hot, son, I am so proud.” Said Theo, snapping a full length picture of Stiles. “Yes, work it baby.”

Derek turned to look at him and found the teen standing, with a weird duck expression on his mouth as Theo took a picture of him. Objectively speaking, Stiles was the girl. The eyes, under the make-up, were the same. The smile was the same. Even the moles that dotted his face were the same. 

But that was not Stiles. Derek stood up abruptly and left the room.

 

Stiles watched as Derek disappeared up the stairs, before turning to look at Allison. “Honey, shall we go?”

* * *

“Are you sure it’s not broken?” asked Allison, as she parked in front of the Argent’s residence.

Stiles looked at his watch. “100% sure. If the mighty watch says Isaac is here, then Isaac is here.” He decided, stepping out of the car.

The girl quickly followed him- or followed her?- and opened the front door of the house. Only to almost have a heart attack when she saw her father standing in front of them.

Chris Argent looked at his daughter with a smile. “Allison! I saw you coming in, and...” he trailed off when he noticed Stiles- female Stiles- standing next to her. “Oh, hello! You must be...”

“Style!” said Allison before Stiles could answer. Stiles just stood there, his mouth frozen in a smile, as he wondered how could girls stand being in heels for more than 10 minutes. Allison put a hand around his waist. “She is my friend, Style... from school.” 

Although her face seemed to be about to split into two by the size of her smile, Chris seemed to believe her. He smiled to Stiles. “Oh, hi Style. I am Allison’s father. I take you’ll stay for dinner?”

Stiles gave him a smile that was meant to be charming, but probably came off as borderline creepy if Chris’ reaction was anything to go by. Allison tugged at his arm, guiding him away from her dad. “Yeah, maybe. Bye dad!” she said, as she and Stiles climbed the stairs towards her bedroom.

Once they were safe in the huntress bedroom and the door had been locked, Stiles threw the heels across the room. He looked at Allison in almost despair. “How do you girls do this walking in uncomfortable and high shoes thing?” he asked, massaging his feet.

Allison ignored him pushing her bed a little towards the left side of the bedroom. Stiles’ face immediately lit up as the girl picked some maps from the floor and handed them to him. There was also a small secret passageway under the bed, and Stiles wanted to thank not only God but also Jesus. 

“Okay, this passageway connects the whole house, as you can see.” Said the huntress, showing him the map. Stiles studied for a few minutes and for once he was glad for his visual memory. He was the best at short time memory, and he had no difficulty memorizing the map.

“If in 30 minutes I’m not back, then we are in trouble.” Said the spark, and Allison nodded fiercely. God, that girl was always so courageous.

Stiles gave Allison a last nod, before lowering himself inside the secret passageway.

It was dirty. Very dirty. Unlike the Hale house, the Argent mansion hadn’t been completely rebuilt and some parts were still ancient. The passageway seemed one of them. It wasn’t that big, so Stiles had to be on hands and knees to go through it. With a quick snap of his fingers a small ball of light was shining in front of him, making the whole passageway less dark. He held his watch in front of him of him and checked the arrows. Still on _‘Alive’_ , but the other one was on ‘ _north_ ’. Stiles started moving towards north.

The silence in the small passageway was almost unnerving, and Stiles almost jumped when a loud noise sounded from somewhere in front of him. He had been dragging himself for about 10 minutes, and finally the red arrow had disappeared. It meant that he had reached his destination. Isaac was there.

With his heart thrumming in his chest Stiles pecked from the air vents in front of him. The room looked like an abandoned room, except... it wasn’t abandoned. Stiles’ breath itched.

There were four separate cages in the room, and a number of different boxes scattered around. Many of them had confusing devices inside, that looked old, crusty but deadly.

The cages were moderately big, enough to give the werewolves inside the illusion of personal space. The cage closest to where Stiles was hiding was CR’s cage. Stiles wanted to scream. The young werewolf’s eyes were closed and she looked thinner than the last time he had seen her. And even back then, Stiles had had the suspicion that she was underfed.

She was lying on her side, her eyes closed, wearing the exact same clothes she had been sporting when she had been kidnapped. The clothes were almost in pieces, and Stiles could see the bruises and scars that covered her body. If it wasn’t for the regular raising and dropping of her chest, Stiles would have been ready to bet she was dead.

The spark willed himself to look away from the girl, and his eyes fell on the other two cages on the other side of the room. Stiles had only seen Aiden before, but since they were twins, it wasn’t difficult recognizing Ethan. He was sitting in a corner of his own cage, back against the bars and looking directly to a woman who was sitting in an angle, reading a magazine.

The cage next to his contained a girl that Stiles assumed was Erica Reyes. Her face was bloody and she had a long cut running down her arm. Her eyes were empty as she stared down at the floor, her hair messy and the traces of tears on her face.

Isaac was alive. The watch did tell him that, but one thing was being told, and one thing was seeing it for himself. The blond werewolf was standing in his cage, a hand over his chest. His clothes weren’t as tattered as the other’s, but his shirt was ripped to reveal a horseshoe imprinted on it with fire. Stiles winced.

They weren’t at the best of their shape, but at least they were alive. 

A door opened, and the woman in the corner stood up, allowing Stiles to see her. He curled his hands in a fist. Meghan. And the man that entered was no one else than Luke Howden, the one who murdered and marked the Raeken family after the fire didn’t kill them. If Theo hadn’t reclaimed the revenge on these two, Stiles would have killed both of them after being finished with the other two hunters.

“Last meal. This is so sad.” Murmured Luke, handing Meghan four apples. They were small and not very pretty apples, but Erica’s eyes lit up in anticipation when she saw them. Stiles’ heart clenched.

Meghan looked at him in wonder, as she took the apples. “What time is it again? Midnight?” she had a sick light in her eyes as she threw one apple in CR’s cage. The werewolf’s eyes snapped open. She looked wildly around her for a second before her gaze fell on the apple. She weakly grabbed the apple, and bit it. Stiles averted his gaze.

Luke was nodding, picking up a gun. “Yup.” He smiled at the werewolves. “Tonight, at midnight, you will all be dead. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed as Meghan threw the rest of the apple to the rest of them. Ethan and Erica all but run to reach their own, but the blond werewolf didn’t move to his. “The pleasure has been all yours.” He answered, holding his head high.

Meghan was right in front of him. “Ah, in my opinion you talk too much. What about we cut that tongue of yours off? Or are you going to shut up?”

Isaac glared, but didn’t answer her. She smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

Stiles needed to move. He needed to get out of there fast, and tell the others, before something happened... before CR, and Isaac, and the rest... He could feel the panic at the pit of his stomach and shook his head. He was getting too emotionally involved. He needed to think lucidly.

Right then he felt something moving over his head and falling right in front of him. Now, Stiles wasn’t usually an easily startled person. He wasn’t scared of many things. But the thing had a tail. The thing had two pitch black eyes. The thing had a pink nose. The thing was long, _too_ long, and had a grey fur. The thing... was a rat.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and a high pitched squeal escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Who’s there!” called Luke immediately, shooting in direction of the air vent and hitting the rat straight away. Stiles shuffled right back, moving as fast as he could to get back to Allison’s room.

He could hear the two voices as he went back. “Jesus, Luke! Gerard said no shootings in the house! It was probably a rat!” 

When he finally made it back to Allison’s room, he was immensely glad that Lydia had picked a dress dark enough that any stain would have been invisible on it. Allison’s face was pale when he reappeared.

She helped him up and immediately pushed her bed, before pointing at the door. “My dad has been trying to get in the room because of the shootings that he heard, and I don’t know what to say!” she whispered.

“Allison I am going to open this door!” warned her father from outside.

Thank god for how quick Stiles’ brain worked under pressure. “Take off your shirt.” He ordered as he ruffled his own hair more than before and smudged all his make-up.

Allison realised immediately what he had in mind and blushed as she kicked her shoes off and took her shirt off at rapid speed.

When Chris Argent opened the door, he was ready to scream and ask who the hell shot something, but he lost the ability to speak. His daughter was standing there, her long hair incredibly messy and no shirt on, as she tried and failed to pull up the zip of her friends dress. Both of them were flustered and Style dropped on the floor, to hide her face in embarrassment.

Allison turned around hiding her face and covering her chest with her hands, and stood there, her back facing him as she screamed. “Oh my god, DAD! I said don’t open the door!” she said, embarrassed beyond belief.

“I... I heard shootings... I thought...” stammered Chris, feeling ridiculous, as his own cheeks started heating up in embarrassment. 

“Dad, just go!” said Allison again, and never Chris was so eager to follow a command.

Chris stumbled out of the room and into his kitchen and almost tripped over his own father. Gerard looked at him, amused. “What happened?” he asked.

Chris shook his head. “I heard a shot, and I thought Allison or her friend were responsible, and I walked into them.” He looked at Gerard. “I think Allison is gay and that that was her girlfriend.” He shook his head again. “I thought she went out with _Isaac_!”

Right then the door of Allison’s room opened, and Style appeared running down the stairs. “Never in my life have I been so embarrassed and humiliated!” said the girl, walking out of the room as quickly as she could, ignoring both Gerard and Chris.

Chris bit his lip and Gerard just chuckled.Allison appeared next and she ignored her father as he called. “I am incredibly sorry, Allison!” as she run out after Style.

Allison just slammed the door behind them.

* * *

When Stiles and Allison finally made it to Derek’s loft, the whole pack was there, just waiting for them.

Derek gave a sigh when the familiar noise of Allison’s car stopped in front of the loft. The huntress came into the room first, followed by the fake female Stiles. Derek knew he was being childish but he couldn’t handle seeing Stiles like that. He had had more than 4 hours to get used to it, and still he was completely disgusted by how wrong it looked.

He couldn’t however not notice the way Stiles’ hands were shaking lightly. It wasn’t his usual annoying _‘I-can’t-stay-still’_ thing. It was more like something was eating him and he was barely holding himself together.

“What happened to your make-up and hair? And why are you holding your shoes instead of wearing them?” inquired Lydia, once Stiles appeared in the room.

The spark and the huntress exchanged a look for a few seconds, before Stiles grimaced and spoke. “What happened in your room, stays in your room, Allison.” He said, his high pitched voice making Derek jaw harden.

Allison shuddered and nodded, to which Theo immediately felt the need to chime in. “Now I have to know exactly what happened there.” 

Stiles ignored him and for some reason looked at Derek. Oh, right. Derek was the Alpha. Of course Stiles looked at him. “We made three important discoveries.” He had everyone’s attention. “One: they are all alive.” The room erupted in cheers, and Boyd sat down, finally relieved.

Stiles hadn’t finished. “Two: they are going to die tonight.” The noise died out in the room. Stiles held up a third finger. “Three: this is a trap.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jackson, when nobody said anything for a few seconds. 

Stiles’ hand where still shaking, noticed Derek, as the boy spoke. “Easy. They were openly talking about the plan. Almost as if they were expecting someone to be listening in.” He nodded. “They know we’ll come.”

Theo spoke then, his voice suddenly unsure. “When you say ‘ _all_ alive’, do you mean...?”

Stiles nodded, but didn’t smile. “CR is alive. She’s not fine, but she’s alive.” He said, looking at his friend.

Theo sat down, his head in his hands. “Thank god. Thank god.” He repeated slowly. His whole stance was similar to Boyd, and Derek couldn’t help but wonder if this CR person was perhaps his girlfriend. 

Derek noticed Stiles slipping out of the room as Allison and the other members of the Pack just sat there, finally calmer than they had been in months. Despite losing Malia and Aiden, the pack seemed finally stronger.

He could hear Stiles’ heart thrumming faster than it usually did and he followed the boy.

Stiles was standing in the bathroom, gripping tightly the sink. His features were normal again, although he was still dressed in Lydia’s ridiculous dress. Derek entered the bathroom, and stood there for a moment.

He could smell Stiles’ distress from where he was standing, and he didn’t like that. The spark had his eyes squeezed shut, and was forcing himself to breathe slowly, trying to calm himself down.

“Stiles.” Called the werewolf, when Stiles’ heartbeat increased instead of lowering. The spark didn’t look at him, but flinched at the sound of his voice, meaning he had heard him.

Derek didn’t know what to do, but he reached for Stiles’ hands, holding them in his. He didn’t make a sound when Stiles’ dug his fingernails in his hands, and only spoke when the teen finally opened his eyes. “Stiles... it’s okay? I am here.” He wasn’t sure who he was reassuring, but Stiles seemed to relax slightly.

Derek’s thumb circled the back of Stiles’ hand, waiting for him to say anything. He wanted Stiles to trust him.

“Derek... what if not all of us make it?” he asked in the end, looking at the werewolf in the eye. He bit his lip and Derek willed his eyes away from his smudged-lipstick covered mouth. “What if Kira dies? Or Theo? Or Lydia? Or Jackson? Scott could die, and so could Boyd or Allison. Or you.”

Derek spoke firmly looking at Stiles fierce in the eye. “If someone dies, it won’t be your fault.” He started. “You... you didn’t have to help us. You didn’t have to do anything for us. And here you are, ready to save the lives of two werewolves you don’t even know and one that you barely know. No one is going to die. But if someone dies, it won’t be because of you.” Said Derek, in the most soothing tone he could master.

It was not probably what a normal person would have said to console another, but it seemed enough for Stiles. “No one is going to die.” He agreed. Then smiled at Derek. “Ehi, Der... thank you.” He said in the end.

Derek could not help his fond smile, but schooled his face in a stone mask almost immediately. He huffed. “Hurry up and get changed.” Now, not only Stiles smelt like Lydia’s clothes, he also had Allison’s scent all over him.

Stiles shrugged, as Derek finally let go of his hands and moved back to the doors. He was about to close the door when he heard Stiles’ voice. The spark had followed him right up to the door. “Derek, now that I don’t look and smell like me, you look like you want the old me back. Think about it.” Said the boy, closing the door before Derek could say anything else.

Derek stared at the door blankly for a full second. What did Stiles mean? And how the fuck did Stiles know? Derek ignored the feeling at the pit of his stomach, as he walked back to where the rest of the pack was.

Theo gave him a knowing look, but Derek ignored him, focusing instead on Kira and Lydia. The two girls were dressed for the kill, and not in a ‘ _fuck, they are going to kill me_ ’ way, more like in a ‘ _fuck they are_ actually _going to kill me’_ kinda way.

Kira had her long sword in a hand, and Lydia had just pulled a knife from under her skirt. 

Derek didn’t even question them, as Lydia started explaining. “Me, Kira and Stiles are going to work on some venom before we start looking for where they are keeping the guys. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Stiles emerged from the bathroom and smiled at the girls. He was wearing his clothes, finally, which Derek was incredibly glad for. His scent was almost completely back to normal.

And then, as Stiles composed a number on the phone and started speaking in a low voice to someone he assumed was Parrish, it hit him. He suddenly understood what Stiles meant, what all of this meant.

A mate is not a wolf’s lust object. And it has nothing to do with human feelings. A mate is a connection, a primordial feeling and need of connection that both humans and wolves had. 

_ Him being attracted with Stiles had nothing to do with him being his mate _ , he realised as Stiles and the girls left the room. Him feeling a connection, a pull to Stiles, was the mate bit. Him wanting to protect Stiles, to anchor him, to be there for him... that had nothing to do with mates.

When Stiles had transformed into that cheap dollar version of himself, Derek had still felt a pull to him. A pull, but no attraction whatsoever. He hadn’t felt the need to stare at him, and wanting to hug him or protect him. He hadn’t because he hadn’t been in love with that fake version of Stiles.

_ Holy fuck. He was in love with Stiles.  _

* * *

Stiles did not like this. He did not like this at all. The pack was not at the loft and had not bothered leaving a message for them. Which meant either they were doing some stupid dumb heroic shit, or they were in danger. Since the room didn’t appear scratched or attacked, Stiles could only curse the stupidity of Theo and Derek and the rest of them. He had hoped Allison would have brought some sanity on them.

“Stiles, now, I am not the best at scent tracking, but even I can smell Isaac’s scent from here.” Said Kira, her eyes wide, a few minutes after they started walking. The watch still said that Isaac was alive and they were on the right direction. She, Stiles and Lydia could see the pack already far ahead, and he let out a relieved sigh. And then it hit him. 

Stiles could not smell human scents, but he could smell venoms, plants and stuff like that. And right now he could smell a large amount of wolfsbane and mountain ash from here he was.

“Oh, crap, we need to stop them!” but it was too late.

In insight, Stiles should have expected it. Even the hunters knew that there was no way they could face a full pack of blood thirsty vengeance seeking werewolves, plus a fox, a banshee, a werewolf huntress and a spark.

He saw the moment the Pack spotted the hunters, standing on the other side of the clearing holding arms in their hands. Meghan Cat. Kate Argent. Sebastian Moore. All of them were looking slightly amused at the werewolves running towards them and right in a trap.

CR, Erica and Ethan were lying in between the two groups, and Stiles _felt_ the moment the werewolves stepped inside the trap. The mountain ash circle.

Isaac was trapped in a cage on the other side of the circle, with Luke Howden standing in front of the cage, and Allison ran towards him instead of following the pack. Which is why she was the only one outside the mountain ash circle when Gerard closed it.

The man had appeared out of nowhere, and dropped the last bit of mountain ash, before grabbing Allison by the neck, his sword in his hands. 

Isaac roared from where he was still stuck in his cell, as Luke quickly turned on a device that was at his feet. Stiles eyes’ widened when he realised what that was. Wolfs bane. Blowing right in direction of the werewolves. _Oh, for fuck’s sake_.

“Welcome to the first edition of the wolf’s games! Spoiler alert, there are not going to be any survivors!” said the blonde huntress, shooting in the sky.

“Hide. Hide until I tell you to come!” said Stiles, urgently, as he moved in plain view. He saw Kira and Lydia moving to hide in different trees, and was glad that for once someone was listening to him.

He wasn’t sure why he was walking right towards the trap, but all he could see was Gerard with a sword at Allison’s neck, and you know... not exactly the time to think about what to do.

He stopped only when Gerard noticed him. The werewolves inside the mountain ash circle had started fighting each other, hallucinating because of the wolfs bane that was blowing right in their faces. Thank god that wolfs bane only affected werewolves, or Kira would have also been in terrible danger.

“Don’t move!” bellowed Gerard, moving the sword even closer to Allison’s neck. The huntress’ was pale in the moonlight, but didn’t seem scared. She seemed decided. Stiles admired her for that.

He could feel on his own skin the magnetic field that enveloped the whole clearing. They seemed to have taken their precautions. His mind took in all this particularies straight away: Isaac’s cage was made of steel; the magnetic field extended from right outside Isaac’s cage to a few step in front of Stiles; Luke Howden was standing right next to Isaac’s cage and looking at the fight that was in progress; the device blowing wolfs bane was a few metres in front of Isaac’s cage; Kate Argent and Meghan Cat were watching the fight, entranced; Sebastian Moore was grinning at Stiles.

“You.” Said Gerard, staring at the spark with hatred in his eyes. “Take another step and I will cut off her throat.” He spat at him when Stiles made to move towards them.

The spark forced himself to still staring at him in anger. Gerard’s features were also contorted in anger and he looked like caution was the only thing stopping him from leaping at Stiles and cutting him down with his long sword.

“I remember you. You and your mother! The reason why I am the way I am!” he bellowed, angrier than he had before.

Stiles’ memory often sucked, but he remembered. He remembered standing with his mother in the woods, him hidden behind a tree and his mother standing in front of a hunter. A hunter that was a younger version of the current Gerard Argent.

He remembered how Gerard had just put down with his arrow a young pregnant female omega werewolf that his mother had been looking after for the past week. He remembered the way his mother had taken out a stilo, cursing him down for years to come with an incurable illness. He remembered the way Gerard had screamed at his mother, the way the man had looked at them...

Gerard was going to kill him. And Allison. And he was not going to have a single regret about it. CR was laying on the ground, and even in his wolfs bane state, Theo seemed to be trying to protect her. Or maybe she just didn’t look like a threat because she was already dead and Theo was focusing on fighting Boyd.

Stiles tried not to think about it as he turned to look at Gerard, gears running in his mind. He had to find a way. He needed to think of a plan. “Oh yeah, I remember you too. You were killing someone both times that I met you. That’s pretty reckless and a bad habit that you seem to have.” Commented the spark, thinking, thinking...

“You are a spark. I knew it!” said the man, his eyes gleaming.“You can undo your mother’s curse!” he added. “Do it, and I’ll let her go _and_ I will liberate your friends. You know you can’t destroy _my_ mountain ash circle.”

Was the guy dumb or what? If Stiles had managed to get past him and Allison he could undo the mountain ash circle without magic. He was human he could do that. The problem was getting past them with Allison still alive.

“Yes, I can. But...” started Stiles. Then the wires in his brain started working. Isaac. Isaac’s cage was made of steel and Stiles was a spark. Fire dislikes metal. He could do it. Also, he still had the watch on his wrist. He was still connected to Isaac. And Isaac wasn’t that far from him. Maybe...

“How do I know that you will actually let them go?” started Stiles, out loud. 

_ Isaac, can you hear me?  _ The werewolf snapped his head up, and stopped snarling, looking at Stiles with wide eyes. He didn’t answer- he didn’t know how to, probably- but he nodded.Stiles saw him out of the corner of his eyes.

_ Good. Now listen to me.  _

“You obviously have no choice but to believe me. You say no- your friends die. You say yes- your friends live.”

_ I am letting you go. I am opening that door. When I open that door, you run to the wolfs bane thing and you turn it off. Don’t breath it. Just run and turn it off _ .

Isaac tensed, and Stiles took this as a positive reaction. Now let’s hope to god he doesn’t fuck up.

Stiles held up his empty hands, his head focusing on the metal of the cage as he slowly walked towards Gerard. “Okay... I am coming...” please don’t make Gerard turn around, please let this work... once he was in, his powers were going to be useless because of the electromagnetic field.

Gerard was looking at him, eagerly, waiting for him to step inside. The door of the cage was almost open. Almost open...

Many things happened then at once: Isaac flung the door of his cage open; Gerard turned his heard around, distracted by the noise, and Stiles took this opportunity to charge; Peter Hale appeared in the clearing, roaring as he run towards Kate Argent; Kira ran towards the mountain ash circle, breaking it with her foot.

Stiles didn’t think, as he kicked the sword right out of Gerard’s grip. The sword cut Allison’s neck as it slipped out of the man’s grip, but it didn’t go in too deep, noticed immediately Stiles’ brain as the boy kicked Gerard in the stomach, making him double over on the ground.

Allison fell on the ground right as Isaac smashed the wind blower that was blowing the wolfs bane, effectively cutting the werewolves’ trance. Kate Argent was running around, shooting at Peter, as Meghan started a sword fight with Kira. 

But Stiles wasn’t focused on any of them. He was looking at Sebastian who was staring right back at him, tense with a gun in his hand. “Isaac, get away from here, and take Allison with you!” shouted the teen, once Isaac finally ran towards them. The blond werewolf didn’t question him, as Stiles started running towards Sebastian.

The spark wasn’t thinking, adrenaline taking over him as he run towards the man that tortured and murdered his mother, managing to dodge the gunshots being thrown at him. He was going to kill him.

He kicked the gun right out of Sebastian’s hands, and the man grabbed him by the ankles, throwing him on the side. Stiles stood up and aimed a punch on the guys’ face, to be blocked again. The man grinned at him. “Well, look if it’s not the little kid again.” He said, punchingStiles in the jaw.

Stiles stumbled over and saw from the corner of his eye, Gerard cutting off Peter’s head. He couldn’t see Kira and Meghan anywhere, and CR seemed to have disappeared as well. 

_ You have to fight your own fights first _ . His mum always repeated this to him. He stood up again and attacked him. He was the spirit of the phoenix, he was not going to let this man walk away alive.

Stiles kneed him in the stomach, and punched him in the face the moment he was doubled over. Sebastian stumbled backwards, and Stiles felt his power flowing right back to him. Sebastian had unconsciously pushed them both out of the energy field.

The man realised his fatal mistake too late, as Stiles lifted him up in the sky, holding the venom that he, Kira and Lydia had spent the whole day making. It was the deadliest and most painful thing Stiles could think of: let’s just say that hydra venom and hydrochloric acid where only part of its content.

Sebastian’s face was full of sheer terror, as Stiles pushed him back down and walked up to him, the venom in his hands. The man struggled but couldn’t move as Stiles forced him to swallow down the venom. Then he let him go.

Stiles watched as the man held both hands to his throat gagging and shaking all over, blood spurting out of his nose. He had no pity, no sympathy at all for him. He turned around and started walking towards where he had last seen Gerard. And that’s when someone shot him.

The gunshot had perforated his abdomen, and Stiles’ hands flew to the wound, a gasp escaping his lips. He turned around, and the pain shoot through all his body as he looked at the gun that had fallen out of Sebastian’s grip. The man’s eyes were almost popping out of his head, and his breath was uneven. And even like that he had managed to almost kill Stiles.

The spark hissed in pain as he started slowly and painfully making his way towards the battlefield™. Kira and Meghan were in plain view and had abandoned their swords for a hand to hand combat. Boyd had Erica in his grasp and was leaving, to put her somewhere safe. Theo was fighting against Luke Howden with Jackson at his side.

He saw Gerard pushing Lydia out of his way as he moved towards where Derek and Kate were fighting against each other. Panic rose in his throat, the wound still bleeding, but before he could make a sound, Lydia was back on her feet, and throwing her dagger at him. She had a great aim, that’s for sure. The dagger wedged in his back, and Gerard fell on the floor.

He staggered in direction of the girl, who was looking at the dead man at her feet in surprise, almost confused that she had managed to kill him off so easily. Well, he _was_ old, and _had_ been cursed with cancer, but Stiles was not going to mention that. His head felt light, too light as he stopped between Lydia and Gerard’s body.

He put a bloody hand on her shoulder, leaving the other on the wound, failing to stop the bleeding. “Get them all out of here.” He said, gasping for air immediately. Lydia’s eyes went on his wound, and she made to say something, but Stiles stopped her. “No. You listen Lydia.” He swallowed, as Theo slashed Luke’s throat and Kira suceeded in throwing Meghan on the floor, sticking her katana right through her heart.

His eyes snapped back on Lydia’s almost panicked expression. He forced to give her a soft smile. “Tell the others to go. I’ll get back there as soon as possible.” He said, obstinately refusing to hiss in pain at the wound in his abdomen.

Lydia gave him one last glance before nodding and running back towards the rest of them. Derek was fighting against Kate and he had her locked in a head lock, his claws at her neck. Derek slashed her neck, and that’s when the sword trespassed his back.

In hindsight, Stiles should have checked that Gerard was completely dead before turning his back to the enemy. Assuming that someone is dead without checking had always been one of Stiles’ worst habits. Now he had a gun wound in his abdomen and a sword in his back because of that. How fucking fantastic.

He should have listened to his granddad when many years ago he had told him ‘ _never give your back to your enemy until they are lowered in a grave and covered in dirt’_. Stiles had snorted at that and look, it came to bite him in the back. Literally.

Stiles’ whole face contorted in pure pain as he fell on his face, the sword still stuck in his back.

“I will die... but you’ll come... with...” Gerard didn’t finish off his threat, finally exhaling his last breath.

Stiles was mildly aware of the sound of someone’ footsteps approaching him, and only hissed in pain, spluttering blood from his mouth when Derek took the sword out of his body. The werewolf’s panicked expression came into vision as Derek held Stiles in his arms, running away from where all the rest of the hunters and Peter laid dead.

“Resist Stiles, please don’t die, don’t die...” muttered the werewolf racing through the woods.

“Derek... please put me down.” Pleaded the spark, the pain in his back almost unbearable. Derek tensed but then looked down at the spark and put him down.

It wasn’t much better, but Stiles didn’t want Derek to take him back to the Hale house. Or worse, to the hospital. He vaguely noticed something wet dripping from Derek’s face.

“You... you are crying...” murmured Stiles, every breath now was a pain. 

Derek didn’t deny and didn’t wipe off his face. “You promised... that everyone was going to be okay! So why are you dying, Stiles?” begged the werewolf. Stiles had promised him! 

Stiles rolled his eyes. He was on his death bed and he was rolling his eyes. “I am not...” he didn’t manage to finish the sentence, closing his eyes at the new wave of pain that hit him. He felt as if his whole body was on fire. Not that he was unfamiliar with the feeling.

Derek looked at him, desperate. “Can’t you cure yourself? A spell?” he asked. Whatever could help him survive, even for a few more minutes so Derek could get him somewhere- _anywhere_ \- where he could be fine again.

Stiles shook his head, his vision becoming blurry. Since when did Derek have 3 eyes? If only Parrish was there... He seemed to have voiced the last thought out loud, because Derek had flinched.

It was always Parrish, in the end. No matter what. But Derek couldn’t bring himself to be mad, to care. He was just angry that Parrish was not there, he was not there when Stiles was probably giving his last breaths.

“I love you.” Said the werewolf, stupidly. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he wasn’t lying. He loved Stiles.

The spark smiled. “That was very cliché of you, Derek. You...” he coughed blood, but kept talking. “You fell for the sarcastic asshole hero, and you telling him you love him when he’s been injured.” His smile softened. “I was waiting for it.”

The werewolf could not help the small smile curving at his lips. But then Stiles coughed more blood, and the smile disappeared, replaced by two fat tears rolling down the werewolf’s cheeks. He put his hand to absorb Stiles’ pain, but it was fruitless.

Stiles moved a hand away from his wound and pushed away Derek’s hand gently. “Derek... go.”Said the spark.

He didn’t need to say anything else, Derek could see everything in his eyes. _I don’t want you to watch me die._

“Stiles...” said the werewolf, brushing his lips against his forehead. Then he stood up, and stumbled backwards, Stiles’ half open eyes still on him.

And then he ran. He ran as fast as he could, far away from Stiles, trying to not hear, to not feel...

But Derek was so attuned to Stiles’ heartbeat that he heard, and felt it when it stopped. For a moment he thought that maybe, maybe he just had missed it and then...

Then Derek lost it and turned into a werewolf, giving the loudest and most full of grief sound human and supernatural creatures had heard all night. He screamed at the full moon and run into the woods, letting primal instincts setting in and running without thinking, a huge black hole in his heart.

And then another howl. Theo. Theo was calling him, he was calling Derek back to the loft and that small string was enough for Derek to regain lucidity. Some lucidity at least. Lydia. Theo. Theo’s girlfriend. Kira. The pack. He needed to go.

He shifted back to human form and looked at his hands, still dirty with Stiles’ blood. He felt dirty and small and human... but he was an Alpha. He needed to go to his pack. He brushed his hands against his trousers and promised to burn them as soonas possible.

When he reached the loft, the majority of the pack was asleep. Lydia looked up from Kira’s wounds when he walked in and stared at the doorway, expecting...

Derek didn’t offer any explanation, and Lydia didn’t seem to need any. Her face crumbled, and she let go of the alcohol she was holding, hiding her face in Kira’s shoulder. Kira’s expression was full of hurt, and Derek turned to look around.

Right. Look after the pack. Don’t think. He could do that.

Scott and Jackson were laying on the floor, Ethan sandwiched between them. The werewolf was trembling all over and Derek picked up a blanket from the couch and threw it over them.

Boyd and Erica were also asleep, the boy’s arm thrown protectively around the blonde girl. Both her and Ethan were finally starting to heal.

Isaac and Allison were on the opposite couch, both holding on to each other as they laid, asleep.

And Theo... Derek’s eyes widened. 

Theo was laying on the couch, wide awake, and asleep in his arms... he couldn’t believe it. It was...

Cora. It was his sister Cora.

“Cor...” murmured Derek, incredulous, close to tears again. He ignored Theo’s menacing growl as he sat down next to her, looking at her.

It was her. It was Cora. CR, Cora, it made sense. Derek had always loved taunting her and Laura, calling them CR and LR. Cora. She was there. She was alive.

“That’s my sister... Cora.” Said Derek touching gently the small werewolf who was curled against Theo’s side. The werewolf didn’t say anything, just stared at Derek for a few minutes.

“Look after her. I’ll be back.” Said the werewolf, standing up. Derek didn’t ask him where he was going. He knew where he was going.

Theo left, and Derek held Cora tighter.

* * *

When Theo came back, the majority of the pack was still asleep. Allison had woken up at one point and contacted her father. Chris Argent had listened to the whole story and promised that he would do what he could to explain the deaths of the hunters and construct a believable story for the rest of them.

Jackson and Lydia had occupied themselves with cooking a light soup for the rest of the Pack.

Derek hadn’t moved one inch, his hand on Cora’s hair, stroking her oh so gently. The girl hadn’t spoken, but her breath had become less laboured as the hours went by. Derek hadn’t allowed himself to think. He had just stroked her hair and stared in front of himself, looking blankly at the wall. He was not going to think about anything. He wasn’t.

Theo stopped right in front of him, and handed him a piece of paper. Derek stared blankly at him, and Theo huffed. “This is the sheriff’s address.” Explained the werewolf, putting the paper in his hand, and sitting down next to Cora.

The girl immediately gripped his hand when Theo touched her hand, and Theo smiled. It was the purest and realest smile Derek had ever seen Theo give.

He didn’t like Theo. The feeling was also probably reciprocal. But he had never seen someone smile at someone the way Theo had at Cora. His mind went immediately to Stiles, and Derek shook his head. No feelings. 

He stood up, and walked towards the door. Right. He was the Alpha, and if someone had to speak to the sheriff, it was him.

Derek didn’t remember the drive from the Hale house to the Sheriff’s house. He might have run over a few red traffic lights, he wasn’t sure.

The sheriff’s car was already parked and Derek stared at it, and avoided looking at Stiles’ jeep. He jumped out of the car and walked up the door. He was going to make this quick.

He pressed the doorbell and waited quietly on the doorstep. He heard the sound of someone moving in the house, and then Melissa McCall opened the door, a plate of fry up in her hand. She smiled, recognizing him as one of Scott’s older friends. “Hey, Derek.” She said, smiling.

The sheriff appeared behind her. “Hale, hi. Come in.” He said, moving to let Derek inside the house. The werewolf didn’t smile, as he entered the room.

The sheriff smiled. “I take you are here to see Stiles? Theo told me you would stop by. He’s upstairs.” Said the sheriff, smiling.

Derek stared. What did he mean, Stiles was upstairs? And then he heard it. Beside his own, there were three other heartbeats in the house. Two of them were human heartbeats. The third was slightly quicker, like the heartbeat of a small bird.

“Are you okay? It’s the first room on the right.” Added the sheriff, when Derek made no move.

The werewolf was aware that his face had probably been drained of all the colour, but he nodded, as he slowly inched towards the staircase. This was not possible.

The heartbeat became stronger with every step closer Derek took. Then the werewolf opened the door.

Stiles was there. Stiles was in the room, on his bed. He was... alive. Unscratched. He was breathing. He was there.

The spark looked up from the comic book in his hands when he heard the door open. “Dude! Don’t you ever knock before coming into a room?” he complained, frowning at him.

Derek stared at him. “You are dead.” He said stupidly. How could this be Stiles? It could not possibly be him. Dammit, Derek had heard when Stiles’ heart had stopped beating!

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I did tell you that I was not going to die.” His expression softened. “Der... it’s me.”

“How do I know it’s actually you?” Derek did not want to hope. He did not want to believe. Because if this was not actually Stiles, then Derek would lose it, and this time he wasn’t sure the pack would be strong enough to get him back to human ever again.

Stiles seemed to think about it for a second, and then he lit up. He reached for his bedside table and took out a necklace. Derek’s eyes widened in surprise.

Stiles flushed. “Well, uhm. You gave me this the day my mother died. My dad was at work when she died, so they brought me to your house. And only you and your mum were there. And I was very sad and confused, and you took it off your neck and put it on mine. You said it would protect me. And I said it was pretty and you smiled, and I kept it...” he didn’t finish his explanation.

Derek had launched himself on the bed, and was now holding Stiles’ face close to him, cradling his face in his hands. His eyes were searching for god knows what, but Stiles didn’t move. He just looked back into Derek’s eyes. 

Then Derek kissed him, and Stiles felt like he was drowning in Derek’s lips. This time, Stiles was kissing him back, and it felt even crazier than the first time. It was like a jolt of electricity running through both of them, a wire sparkling between them, and Derek had never felt so _alive_.

This was Stiles. And Stiles was alive. 

The spark pushed his head back, and looked at Derek for a moment. “Why did you do this?” he asked, echoing the question of last time.

This time Derek had an answer. “Because I love you, and you are alive, and you are here.” He answered, and this time it was Stiles who pushed him down on the bed, kissing him fiercely, and everything was on _fire_.

Stiles’ tongue run on his teeth, and Derek felt like he was a live current of electricity. He didn’t care about anything else but the feeling of Stiles’ hand in his hair, his body pressed against Derek’s, his lips and mouth all over Derek’s.

Once they stopped kissing, Derek stared at Stiles for a solid minute, impressing the boy’s face in his memory. “How?” he asked in the end.

Stiles smiled. “I am a spark. But not like, a normal spark. I am a phoenix-spark.” He explained. When Derek appeared confused, he continued. “Which means I have the spirit of the phoenix inside of him. I rise from my ashes. Well, not always. If I had been stabbed in the heart, I would have been gone. But since I was bleeding to death, I rose from my ashes.”

Derek ran a hand on Stiles’ face. “Is that why you have a phoenix tattooed on your back?” he asked.

Stiles lit up, and nodded, as he took off his shirt. “Look!” sproned him the spark, as he turned around and... what?

The tattoo looked different. Smaller. The phoenix looked like a shrinked and younger version of itself. Stiles grinned. “By tonight it will be back to normal. She bursted into flames, so she also had to rise from her ashes.” He explained.

But now Derek wasn’t looking at the phoenix anymore, as he traced with his fingers the mark on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ body was hot under Derek’s and Stiles was following amused every one of Derek’s movement.

The werewolf looked up at Stiles and the spark’s heartbeat rate increased. Derek placed both his hands on Stiles’ chest and pushed him on the bed, before sitting on top of him.

Stiles just looked at him amused, as Derek’s fingers reverently traced every single part of his body. “The door is locked.” Announced Stiles, and Derek heard the snap of the key locking them inside.

The implication of the statement was clear. Derek’s own heart beat increased, and the werewolf caught Stiles’ lips in his own again. This time, Stiles was shirtless which made Derek feel as if he was actually touching a live wire. Stiles’ body under him was... Derek did not have enough words in his vocabulary to explain how he felt.

Stiles tugged at his shirt, and Derek liberated himself of the stupid article of cloth. He was surprised that he had not taken it off before. 

Everything was suddenly too overwhelming. It was just too hot. Stiles’ kiss had become less gentle and more aggressive, his hands running through Derek’s hair. He was humping against Derek’s body, and they both were sporting a hard on.

Wordlessly, Derek helped Stiles out of his trousers, the spark arching his back so that he didn’t have to stop the kiss for this. Derek needed Stiles. He needed him.

Sex had never been something that Derek had ever been too kin on. Like it was great, and he had had several hook ups, but mostly because the pack and his sister complained that he was not getting enough activity.

But this... He needed to be inside Stiles, he needed to feel his body all over his.

“Derek come on...” groaned Stiles against his lips. From the sound of his voice, he needed this as much as Derek did. The werewolf stood higher on his knees buckling up Stiles’ hips.

Stiles’ hand reached inside the bedside table, coming back with a bottle of lube. Derek bit Stiles’ lower lip, before letting go of his lips and covering his hands in lube.

He licked Stiles’ chest down, moving down towards the trail under his navel. Stiles’ breath shuddered, as Derek’s lips found his cock.

The werewolf put a lube covered finger in Stiles’ ass as his tongue started licking the head of his penis. Stiles’ whole body quivered in pleasure, and the spark let out a small moan that Derek’s dick really appreciated.

His fingers were working fast in Stiles’ ass, as he kept teasing the boy’s cock with his tongue. Stiles had beads of sweat on his forehead and was gripping tightly the bed sheets, failing to contain his moans.

When his fingers touched Stiles’ prostate, Derek was almost positive he saw a spark of electricity running through Stiles’ whole body. Stiles and him made eye contact then, and at the sight of Derek, with his lips curved against him cock and his eyes a shade darker than they usually were, Stiles moaned.

“Derek... if you don’t fuck me right now, I am going to come, and it won’t be pretty.” groaned Stiles, his knuckles turning white by how much he was gripping the bed sheets.

Derek moved his mouth and fingers away, displeased. He was about to give himself a couple of quick strokes when Stiles’ hand was suddenly on his.

Wordlessly, the spark moved Derek’s hand away and replaced it with his own on Derek’s cock. The werewolf hissed, and Stiles grinned cockily up at him, before...

Fuck.

Stiles’ blowjob face was the most obscene thing that Derek had ever seen. His face a was a little flustered, and his pink lips were wrapped around his cock as his tongue slid down its length, eyes have closed and concentrated in giving Derek pleasure.

Derek put a hand in his hair, almost overcome by all this feelings attacking him at once, and a growl escaped his lips. Stiles looked up at him, and it took all of Derek’s self control not to come right there and then.

“Stiles.” Said Derek, and the spark let go of his cock with a slurping sound. He licked his lips and no, that was not supposed to be _that_ erotic.

“Turn over.” Ordered the werewolf and Stiles obeyed immediately. Derek put his fingers in Stiles’ hole yet again to prepare him, and then... he pushed inside.

“Mother of fuck!” came from Stiles as Derek slid his lube covered penis inside the younger boy. He was gentle, careful not to hurt him, but apparently, Stiles didn’t do _gentle._

“Derek none of that ‘ _Imma let you adjust’_ bullshit, just fuck me up.” Said the boy, unfiltered, and Derek snorted. He really loved Stiles.

His thrusts gained velocity, and Derek felt hot all at once, his body and Stiles’ joined into one. The werewolf was not sure if any words were going to come out of him except shit and oh fuck, which was all his vocabulary consisted of at the moment.

“Holy fuck!” moaned Stiles. “Yes, keep doing... fuck!” the teen was even hotter than before under Derek’s body, and as he moved down to kiss Stiles’ shoulder, he noticed that the phoenix had in fact grown bigger than a few minutes ago.

He gripped Stiles’ hips once again and kept thrusting in, until he finally hit the boy’s prostate. Stiles let out a moan and his whole body quivered exquisitely under Derek’s, his knees shaking.

“I’m close, Der, ‘m close...” mumbled Stiles, his eyes squeezed shut as Derek kept thrusting.

They climaxed together, Derek with a low grumble in his chest and Stiles with a low shout of his name, Derek falling on him on the bed.

The werewolf immediately rolled over, so that he wasn’t squashing him with his weight, and then stared at him. Stiles stared back at him, and neither spoke for a few minutes.

“I can’t believe you are still alive.” Said Derek in the end. Stiles looked at him from under his eyelashes, and smiled lopsidedly. “I can’t believe you saved all of them and that you are still alive.”

Stiles’ looked sad for a second. “Peter is dead.” He reminded him.

Derek snorted. “I would not bat an eyelid if he came back from the dead. I didn’t see his body when I was carrying you away.” He seemed pained at the memory.

Stiles ran a hand on his cheekbone. “Hey. Enough with that. I am alive.”

Derek spoke then, suddenly unsure. "You said Parrish's name... Before." 

Stiles looked confused for a second. Then he realised. "Oh! It's because he's an Hellbound. His fire and the fire of a phoenix are similar, and if he had burnt me, I would have, ahem, transformed easily. Instead I had to wait until dawn, when the sun finally came out, and Theo helped me by dragging my dead body to the Nematon. So the process was quicker." He explained. 

Derek nodded, and then looked at him accusingly. “You didn’t tell me CR was Cora!” he had completely forgotten, for a second that his sister was alive and safe.

From Stiles’ face, he didn’t know either. “What? CR? She’s Cora?” he thought about it for a second. “Now that you say it, it makes sense.” He glared at Derek, though it didn’t have any heat in it. “She cut her hair! Plus I haven’t seen her in 10 years! She is different!” he complained, pouting.

Derek chuckled, and shook his head. Then a though occurred him. “You said something... you said you were waiting for me.” He said in the end.

Stiles flushed. “Oh god.” Derek looked at him curiously. “Don’t laugh at me. I’ve had a crush on you since I first met you.” He said hiding his face in the pillow.

Derek looked at him in shock for a moment. What?

Stiles spoke in the pillow. “Your mom was friend with my mum. So I spent a lot of time with you guys. Why do you think I always avoided you after I turned 8?” he asked, still refusing to look up.

Derek arched an eyebrow. “You told Laura that you hated me and that you wanted me out of Beacon Hills.” He recalled.

Stiles shook his head. “I said that I hated you cute face and pretty smile and that I wanted you out of my town.” He corrected him, and Derek laughed. 

Stiles sighed. “Then you were nice and gave me that necklace and I kept it. And then I kept it as a fond memory, and I came back... and fucking you were there again. And I was in love with you again. And I knew you liked me, and... what?” he stopped when he saw Derek looking at him with a huge smile on his face.

The werewolfcouldn’t stop smiling. “You said you were in love with me. Again.”

* * *

Stiles and Derek walked into the room, their hands entwined. The Pack was finally awake and they were silent when the two entered the room. And then Lydia saw Stiles walking in, and screamed.

Not a banshee scream, but it went pretty damn closed. The girl flung herself to Stiles hugging the spark tightly, tears running down her cheeks. Stiles looked bewildered at the gesture, and Derek just shook his head. The teenager had no real recognition of how much the pack actually loved him.

He went to sit down, as Lydia threatened him of many violent deaths if he ever made her feel like that again.

The it was Kira’s turn to hug him, the fox almost completely healed. “I am glad you are alive, Stilinski.” She said, kissing his cheek.

“Me too.” Said Stiles. “I’m glad. To be alive. That we both are. I love you, foxy.” He said, winking at her, as Scott stole him from her hands.

“You gave me a big scare, bro.” Complained his step brother, holding him tight.

“Bro. I would never die without officialising our bromance, bro.” Said Stiles, serious, and Scott laughed.

When Jackson hugged him, Stiles fake wiped a tear. “Jordan, I missed you so much!”

Jackson just sniffed. “I am glad you are alive, Stiles.” He said, echoing Kira’s words.

Stiles smiled and kissed his cheek. “Me too.Again.”

“Stiles.” Called Boyd, from where he was sitting next to Erica.

The spark walked up to him, just to be enveloped in an almost bone crashing hug. The werewolf seemed embarrassed. “This is Erica. Thank you so much for saving her.”

Stiles kissed Erica’s hand, and shook his head at Boyd. “You are the hero, today, Boyd. I just showed you where she was. You are the one who rescued her.”

Boyd seemed pleased and Erica smiled at Stiles. “I like you, Stiles.”

The spark winked. “Not in front of Boyd, Catwoman.” He said, making both werewolves laugh. Boyd’s laugh was cute.

Then it was Allison and Isaac who crushed him between them in a hug. They didn’t say anything, and Stiles didn’t need them to. He just kissed their foreheads, and then moved towards Ethan.

The boy was sitting alone in a corner, drinking his soup and looked at Stiles with an expression of overwhelming sadness. Stiles put a hand on his shoulder. “Drink your soup. Wash your face. Then I’ll get Lydia or Jackson to call your boyfriend. After that, we will go to your brothers grave. Is that okay?” he asked, gently.

Ethan nodded, and wrapped his arms around Stiles. “Thank you.” Stiles ruffled his hair and then walked towards Theo, Derek and CR... Cora.

He glared at the werewolf, who was holding Derek and Theo’s hands in both hers. She looked already better and she had finally begun healing. “Thank you for not telling me... _Cora Esmeralda Hale_.”

Cora shrugged, looking at him smugly. “Where would have the fun been, if I had told you?” she asked, and stuck his tongue at him. “Also, tell this two to stop glaring at each other.”

These two were Theo and Derek. Theo scowled at the Alpha. “Just because you are suddenly dating my best mate, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Derek glared back. “Just because you are suddenly dating my sister, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Cora groaned, and Stiles laughed. “Can you imagine a 4 people date between the four of us?” he asked.

“Stiles, I am disgusted. I won’t go on a four people date with my brother.” She grimaced.

Stiles shrugged. “Siblings bonding and all that, right?” he winked at her.

Cora shuddered, and Theo wrinkled his nose. “You smell like Derek. This is terrible.”

Derek and Stiles made eye contact and smiled at each other fondly.

Cora and Theo gagged. “I knew about eye fucking, but this is eye romancing, and it’s gross.”

“Shut up, Theo.” Said Stiles, and Derek’s hand found his.

Stiles entwined their fingers.

 

** SPARK: Have you found an answer? **

** WEREWOLF: It’s not human passion. It’s not wolf’s lust. It’s a werewolf’s power of love. **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the story! It was a pleasure writing it!
> 
> Come and find me on [Tumblr](zouisprideflag.tumblr.com)
> 
> Love you!


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